Cool Highlight Quotes

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It as mathematical, marriage, not, as one might expect, additional; it was exponential. This one man, nervous in a suite a size too small for his long, lean self, this woman, in a green lace dress cut to the upper thigh, with a white rose behind her ear. Christ, so young. The woman before them was a unitarian minister, and on her buzzed scalp, the grey hairs shone in a swab of sun through the lace in the window. Outside, Poughkeepsie was waking. Behind them, a man in a custodian's uniform cried softly beside a man in pajamas with a Dachshund, their witnesses, a shine in everyone's eye. One could taste the love on the air, or maybe that was sex, or maybe that was all the same then. 'I do,' she said. 'I do,' he said. They did. They would. Our children will be so fucking beautiful, he thought, looking at her. Home, she thought, looking at him. 'You may kiss,' said the officiant. They did, would. Now they thanked everyone and laughed, and papers were signed and congratulations offered, and all stood for a moment, unwilling to leave this gentile living room where there was such softness. The newlyweds thanked everyone again, shyly, and went out the door into the cool morning. They laughed, rosy. In they'd come integers, out they came, squared. Her life, in the window, the parakeet, scrap of blue midday in the London dusk, ages away from what had been most deeply lived. Day on a rocky beach, creatures in the tide pool. All those ordinary afternoons, listening to footsteps in the beams of the house, and knowing the feeling behind them. Because it was so true, more than the highlights and the bright events, it was in the daily where she'd found life. The hundreds of time she'd dug in her garden, each time the satisfying chew of spade through soil, so often that this action, the pressure and release and rich dirt smell delineated the warmth she'd felt in the cherry orchard. Or this, each day they woke in the same place, her husband waking her with a cup of coffee, the cream still swirling into the black. Almost unremarked upon this kindness, he would kiss her on the crown of her head before leaving, and she'd feel something in her rising in her body to meet him. These silent intimacies made their marriage, not the ceremonies or parties or opening nights or occasions, or spectacular fucks. Anyway, that part was finished. A pity...
Lauren Groff (Fates and Furies)
We walk into the lobby of the hotel and I try not to grin at the man behind the counter. I refrain from screaming, "I'm going to have sex! With this gorgeous woman. She want to have sex. I didn't even have to ask, she just want to have sex. With me! Can you believe it?" I take deep breaths and try to downplay that this moment is the highlight of my life. Air kicks and high-fives probably wouldn't be a cool more right now.
Katie Kacvinsky (First Comes Love (First Comes Love, #1))
Missy and her crew left, I was alone. Like really alone, like pre-Shay alone. It felt glorious. Well, maybe not. I didn’t feel right about Shay, but I’d see him in a day. We could sort out whatever happened on his street. Till then, I studied to my heart’s content. I made trips to my dorm’s computer lab, and I even got naughty. I stole some of the computer’s printing papers, stuffing them down the front of my shirt. My inner dork was coming out full-force. It was like I’d been around “cool” people too much for my system. It was rebelling. It needed an outlet, and I indulged. All of the colored highlighters came out. Not just the primary colors, all of them. I used pink for one textbook, and added purple on the next. All caution was thrown to the wind. It was only eight, but I went to the library. I really let my freak out. An energy drink. Coffee from the cart. My own Twizzlers this time. Even a bag of chocolate candies. I was going nuts on the caffeine and sugar, and then I found an empty study room on the top and most isolated floor in the library. I stayed until midnight. It was some of the best studying I’ve had. Ever. Mind-blowing.
Tijan (Hate to Love You)
The Netherlands capital of Amsterdam amsterdam cruise is a thriving metropolis and one from the world's popular cities. If you are planning a trip to the metropolis, but are unclear about what you should do presently there, why not possess a little fun and spend time learning about how it's stereotypically known for? How come they put on clogs? When was the wind mill first utilised there? In addition, be sure to include all your feels on your journey and taste the phenomenal cheeses along with smell the stunning tulips. It's really recommended that you stay in a city motel, Amsterdam is quite spread out and residing in hotels close to the city-centre allows for the easiest access to public transportation. Beyond the clichés So that you can know precisely why a stereotype exists it usually is important to discover its source. Clogs: The Dutch have already been wearing solid wood shoes, as well as "Klompen" as they are referred to, for approximately 700 years. They were originally made out of a timber sole along with a leather top or band tacked for the wood. Nevertheless, the shoes had been eventually created completely from wood to safeguard the whole base. Wooden shoe wearers state the shoes are usually warm during the cold months and cool during the warm months. The first guild associated with clog designers dates back to a number exceeding 1570 in Holland. When making blockages, both shoes of a set must be created from the same kind of timber, even the same side of a tree, in order that the wood will certainly shrink in the same charge. While most blocks today are produced by equipment, a few shoemakers are left and they normally set up store in vacationer areas near any city hotel. Amsterdam also offers a clog-making museum, Klompenmakerij De Zaanse Schans, that highlights your shoe's history and significance. Windmills: The first windmills have been demonstrated to have existed in Netherlands from about the year 1200. Today, there are eight leftover windmills in the capital. The most effective to visit is De Gooyer, which has been built in 1725 over the Nieuwevaart Canal. Their location in the east involving city's downtown area signifies it is readily available from any metropolis hotel. Amsterdam enjoys its beer and it actually has a brewery right on the doorstep to the wind generator. So if you are enjoying a historic site it's also possible to enjoy a scrumptious ice-cold beer - what more would you ask for? Mozerella: It's impossible to vacation to Amsterdam without sampling several of its wonderful cheeses. In accordance with the locals, probably the most flavourful cheeses are available at the Wegewijs Emporium. With over 50 international cheese and A hundred domestic parmesan cheesse, you will surely have a wide-variety to pick from.
Step Into the Stereotypes of Amsterdam
Yoel Goldenberg makes exhibitions, photographs, models and media craftsmanship. His works are an examination of ideas, for example, validness and objectivity by utilizing an exhaustive methodology and semi exploratory exactness and by referencing documentaries, 'actuality fiction' and prominent experimental reciprocals. Yoel Goldenberg as of now lives and works in Brooklyn. By challenging the division between the domain of memory and the domain of experience, Goldenberg formalizes the circumstantial and underlines the procedure of synthesis that is behind the apparently arbitrary works. The manners of thinking, which are probably private, profoundly subjective and unfiltered in their references to dream universes, are much of the time uncovered as collections. His practice gives a valuable arrangement of metaphorical instruments for moving with a pseudo-moderate approach in the realm of execution: these fastidiously arranged works reverberate and resound with pictures winnowed from the fantastical domain of creative energy. By trying different things with aleatoric procedures, Yoel Goldenberg makes work in which an interest with the clarity of substance and an uncompromising demeanor towards calculated and insignificant workmanship can be found. The work is detached and deliberate and a cool and unbiased symbolism is utilized. His works are highlighting unplanned, unintentional and sudden associations which make it conceivable to overhaul craftsmanship history and, far and away superior, to supplement it. Consolidating random viewpoints lead to astounding analogies. With a theoretical methodology, he ponders the firmly related subjects of file and memory. This regularly brings about an examination of both the human requirement for "definitive" stories and the inquiry whether tales "fictionalize" history. His gathered, changed and own exhibitions are being faced as stylishly versatile, specifically interrelated material for memory and projection. The conceivable appears to be genuine and reality exists, yet it has numerous countenances, as Hanna Arendt refers to from Franz Kafka. By exploring dialect on a meta-level, he tries to approach a wide size of subjects in a multi-layered route, likes to include the viewer in a way that is here and there physical and has faith in the thought of capacity taking after structure in a work. Goldenberg’s works are straightforwardly a reaction to the encompassing environment and uses regular encounters from the craftsman as a beginning stage. Regularly these are confined occasions that would go unnoticed in their unique connection. By utilizing a regularly developing file of discovered archives to make self-ruling works of art, he retains the convention of recognition workmanship into every day hone. This individual subsequent and recovery of a past custom is vital as a demonstration of reflection. Yoel’s works concentrate on the powerlessness of correspondence which is utilized to picture reality, the endeavor of dialog, the disharmony in the middle of structure and content and the dysfunctions of dialect. To put it plainly, the absence of clear references is key components in the work. With an unobtrusive moderate methodology, he tries to handle dialect. Changed into craftsmanship, dialect turns into an adornment. Right then and there, loads of ambiguities and indistinctnesses, which are intrinsic to the sensation, rise up to the top
Herbert Goldenberg
November 27, 2013 8:01:33 AM 16 ========== Cool Down and Work Through Anger (Learning to Get Along®) (Cheri J. Meiners M.Ed.) - Your Highlight Location 24-24 | Added on Wednesday, November 27, 2013 8:01:33 AM ========== Cool Down and Work Through Anger (Learning to Get Along®) (Cheri J. Meiners M.Ed.) - Your Highlight Location 25-25 | Added on Wednesday, November 27, 2013 8:01:46 AM ========== Cool Down and Work Through Anger (Learning to Get Along®) (Cheri J. Meiners M.Ed.) - Your Note Location 25 | Added on Wednesday, November 27, 2013 8:01:58 AM 17 ========== Cool Down and Work Through Anger (Learning to Get Along®) (Cheri J. Meiners M.Ed.) - Your Note Location 25 | Added on Wednesday, November 27, 2013 8:02:18 AM 18 ========== Cool Down and Work Through Anger (Learning to Get Along®) (Cheri J. Meiners M.Ed.) - Your Highlight Location 25-25 | Added on Wednesday, November 27, 2013 8:02:18 AM ========== Cool Down and Work Through Anger (Learning to Get Along®) (Cheri J. Meiners M.Ed.) - Your Note Location 26 | Added on Wednesday, November 27, 2013 8:03:26 AM 9 ========== Cool Down and Work Through Anger (Learning to Get Along®) (Cheri J. Meiners M.Ed.) - Your Highlight Location 26-26 | Added on Wednesday, November 27, 2013 8:03:26 AM ========== Cool Down and Work Through Anger (Learning to Get Along®) (Cheri J. Meiners M.Ed.) - Your Note Location 26 | Added on Wednesday, November 27, 2013 8:03:45 AM 19
Anonymous
The stuff of life, in other words, arose in places and times somewhat more accessible to our telescopic investigations. Since most of us spend our lives confined to a narrow strip near Earth’s surface, we tend to think of the cosmos as a lofty, empyrean realm far beyond our reach and relevance. We forget that only a thin sliver of atmosphere separates us from the rest of the universe. But science continues to show just how intimately connected life on Earth is to extraterrestrial processes. In particular, several recent findings have further illuminated the cosmic origins of life’s key ingredients. Take the element phosphorus, for example. It is a critical constituent of DNA, as well as of our cells, teeth and bones. Astronomers have long struggled to trace its buildup through cosmic history, because the imprint of phosphorus is difficult to discern in old, cool stars in the outskirts of our galaxy. (Some of these stellar “time capsules” contain the ashes of their forebears, the very first generation of stars that formed near the dawn of time.) But in a paper published in December in The Astrophysical Journal Letters, a research team reported that it had measured the abundance of phosphorus in 13 such stars, using data taken with the Hubble Space Telescope. Their findings highlight the dominant role of so-called hypernovae, explosions even more energetic than supernovae that spell the demise of massive stars, in making the elements
Anonymous
And as the whole thing climbed the conversational stairs into absurd and pointless confrontation I let out my cool and careful breath and felt a new one rush in, hot and tight and full of dim red highlights; this was my alternative to exposure and prison? Squealing, squabbling, screaming, and the sour-milk vomit of endless emotional violence? This was the good side of life? The part that I was supposed to miss when the end came, at any minute now, to trundle me off into the dark forever? It was beyond endurance; just listening to it in the next room made me want to bellow, spit fire, crush heads—but, of course, that kind of honest expression of real emotion would only guarantee my reservation in prison.
Jeff Lindsay (Double Dexter (Dexter #6))
Cool and serene, I thought... like a pale Japanese watercolour. After a few months in the province and many field trips, I still couldn't believe the delicate beauty of the Vietnamese countryside.
Robert H. Dodd (Don't Break My Rice Bowl: A beautiful and gripping novel, highlighting the personal and tragic struggles faced during the Vietnam War, bringing the late author and his 'forgotten' manuscript to life)
Copywriting should rarely highlight how cool you or your product are, but rather what your product does for the buyer.
John Weiler (Reinvent Your Business Online: 3 critical digital marketing skills to kick-start a new era of profits online (Digital Marketing Success))
Finally, it was our turn and my stomach churned with anxiety and nerves. As we raced out onto the stage to form our positions before the curtain went up, Sara turned to me and said, “Break a leg, Julia!” “What?” I frowned. “That’s for good luck,” she smirked and then faced the audience whose applause was deafening once again. We lunged into our routine, with Sara in the front row, doing the somersaults that she was so good at and as usual, her precision and timing were excellent. The applause erupted again and with a flick of her long ponytail, she executed a very tricky interchange with Alex and then moved to the back. Alex attacked his moves with his usual gusto and the sharp, expressive movements which made him the stand out hip-hop dancer that he was. I felt a rush of pride at being a part of such a cool routine but just as I moved to the front position, I felt my leg give way under me. It was a completely involuntary reaction and one I was powerless to prevent. I was supposed to kneel down and support the weight of one of the smaller girls on my bent knee but unfortunately, it was the leg that I had injured that morning. There was no way I could bear her weight and the sharp pain caused my knee to drop just as Abbie pressed down on it to raise herself into the air. With a gasp from the audience, she went tumbling to the ground. Bright red with embarrassment, she glared at me in horror and all I could do was help her up and try to resume the timing and movements of the routine going on around us. Fortunately, Abbie had no trouble getting back into rhythm, but I just seemed to lose my place and was not able to recover. As if in slow motion, I felt myself limping around the stage after the others and then looking down, I realized that blood was oozing from my leg and onto the floor. I tried to ignore it and focus on the moves that I knew so well, but I was simply unable to get it together. Gratefully, Millie took over my spot and I moved once again to the back row, trying to camouflage myself amongst the others. The scene around me was almost surreal and I felt as though I were a spectator watching the event unfold from afar. The swirling, twisting and turning of the dancers in front of me, along with the steady thumping beat of the latest hip-hop song that everyone knew so well, all seemed to mesh together into a whirlpool of crazy colors and sounds. Then, feeling a slight nudge in my lower back, I was pushed towards the front of the stage. An instant flash of recall had me leaping into the air. Everyone still considered this moment the highlight of our routine. It was the grand finale and my chance to relinquish my status as actually being a decent dancer and choreographer. Flinging my arms and legs forward, I came down onto the stage, one foot at a time. Then reminiscent of that morning’s episode in the school driveway, rather than gripping onto the stage in a final dramatic stomp, my foot slid forward and just kept on going until my whole body landed horizontally on the floor with a loud bang. In a blur of dizziness, I sat up and looked around then saw that I had slipped on a pool of blood; blood that had oozed from the gash in my knee and onto the stage. At that very moment, I was overcome with a sudden rush of nausea and unable to stop the sudden convulsion, I vomited all over the floor in front of me. Too terrified to open my eyes, I wished I could turn back the clock. Back to the day of our dress rehearsal when everything had gone so smoothly. My final leap had been the high point of the day, where even Miss Sheldon and also Alex our expert hip hop dancer, had congratulated me on my performance. I dared to glance fearfully out into the audience. Everyone appeared aghast and I could see the shocked expressions of my mom and dad. Then, realizing I was surrounded by worried faces peering down at me, everything suddenly went black.
Katrina Kahler (My Worst Day Ever! (Julia Jones' Diary #1))
The silver lining is that people have stopped busting my chops. I confronted Dad about the phone calls, and I check in every day, and he says they’ve stopped. I have no idea if he’s blowing smoke up my ass or not, but he seems more chill. Then there’s the added bonus that having Cash around drives Toby nuts. The downside is that Toby’s decided to turn up the PDA with his new girl, Samantha, to twelve. And I don’t care. I really, really don’t. I don’t want him back. I don’t miss feeling the way I felt with him—at all. But I know he’s doing it to mess with me, even though he’d never admit it, probably not even to himself. I have to act like it’s fine. I’m chill. And that’s too much like how it was being in a relationship with him. Playing it cool reminds me of how long I had shit in my mouth and didn’t say a word. So I’m constantly flustered, clumsy, hot, and cranky. I can’t possibly seem like a woman with a new boyfriend, but people buy it ‘cause Cash Wall says it’s so. And of course, if he showed the slightest bit of interest in me—out of guilt or pity or whatever—I’d fall over myself saying yes, please, sign me up. And that’s exactly what it looks like I did. It sucks, and tonight, Cash wants to take it to the next level. It’s Friday, and he’s taking me out on our first fake date. We’re going to Birdy’s Bar. Everyone under thirty goes to Birdy’s on Friday night. I’ve never been. I’m getting ready. On the one hand, I don’t want Cash to think I’m putting forth an effort. On the other, I don’t want everyone in town to gawk at me all night, thinking I really need to put forth more effort. So, I’m wearing a teal, silk cami and my best-fitting jeans. I swapped my nose ring out for a diamond stud and curled my hair in big, beachy waves. I’m going the whole nine yards with primer and foundation and concealer and bronzer and blush and highlighter and powder and setting spray. Toby would hate it. Goes against his oft-stated “natural beauty” preference. It’s been so long since I’ve done my face in
Cate C. Wells (Against a Wall (Stonecut County, #2))
In my view, the key to becoming a successful NBA player is not learning the coolest highlight-reel moves. It’s learning how to control your emotions and keep your mind focused on the game, how to play through pain, how to carve out your role on the team and perform it consistently, how to stay cool under pressure and maintain your equanimity after crushing losses or ecstatic wins.
Phil Jackson (Eleven Rings: The Soul of Success)
Entertaining Possibilities "Why sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast." - The Queen of Hearts, Alice in Wonderland riding bareback on a triceratops through green galaxies while you ride beside me on your favorite mastodon running a finger over those I love and like a highlighter pen turning them neon noting them forever so I can return to them easily when I need them thinking something good can come of "ethnic cleansing" swimming in an ocean deep and wet enough to fill the eternity of love between these two sheets walking into the vowels of a word like open and becoming it locking away Pandora's box putting evil back in its place for good and swallowing the key lighting myself with a single match then watching me melt warm and liquid over your body cooling gently in the shape of you sitting flat in round anticipation I will be page 233 in the book that you have just opened and I will chew on each delicious moment of every turn as you move page by page closer to me stowing away in your pillowcase and sailing your dreams so that when you are sent to walk the plank I can catch you together we can be the mutiny on any bounty letting my best ideas ripen beside yours on the vine then stomping it all juicy between toes yours and mine aging then bottling it all till the sun falls and we uncork our store one by one and drink forever in the twilight planting a memory watering the spot watching it grow tall, tender, familiar, then putting my ear to its blossom and hearing my grandmother's voice tell me again that I can be both the gift and the giver
Nancy Boutilier (On the Eighth Day Adam Slept Alone: New Poems)