Cousin Ed Quotes

Silk laughed. "You really should try not to let your knife do all your thinking for you. That's the one quality we find least attractive in our Cherek cousins." "And we find this compulsion to make clever remarks which seems to overwhelm our Drasnian brothers now and then almost equally unattractive," Barak told him coolly.

So yes,” Sean gave me a pointed look, “I approve of it wholeheartedly. In fact, seduce her again.” I coughed, choking on nothing, and sputtered, “What? What did you say?” “I said seduce her. And do it now. She has more unresolved feelings for you than Jennifer has for Brad.” He paused, then added, “And do a good job. Do a great job.” I stared at him for several seconds, dumbfounded. “Of course I’ll do a great job.” Sean pointed at me accusingly. “I’m serious. Look up some moves or watch some videos, do whatever it takes to make sure she enjoys herself.” Now I was offended. “Fuck you, Sean. Of course she’ll enjoy herself. She’ll like it so much she’ll beg for-” “Hey.” My teammate narrowed his eyes, slicing his hand through the air. “I don’t need or want to know the specifics. I’m just saying, take good care of her. Take excellent care of her. Give her everything she needs. And don’t be selfish.” “I won’t be.” I shook my head with the denial, staring at Sean. Staring at him because . . . Did he just tell me to seduce his cousin?

The jeers that had risen as Barak’s and Greldik’s ships had been manoeuvred onto their wheeled carriages turned rather quickly into angry mutterings as the carriages, pulled by teams of Algar horses, rolled effortlessly toward the escarpment past men straining with every ounce of strength to move their ships a few inches at a time. To leave it all to artistry, Barak and Greldik ordered their men to lounge indolently on the decks of their ships, drinking ale and playing dice. King Anheg stared very hard at his impudently grinning cousin as the big ship rolled past. His expression was profoundly offended. “That’s going too far!” he exploded, jerking off his dented crown and throwing it down on the ground.

A mature Christian recognizes that correcting every wrong on the Internet would take more hours than a full-time job. If you snap every time your great-aunt’s friend’s cousin thrice-removed makes a snarky comment about “all the contradictions in the Bible,” it will consume you and your joy.

It’s different," Sorgan’s younger cousin Torl declared, gesturing at the glorious sunset late that afternoon. "It’s pretty enough, I suppose, but it’s not too much like the sunsets out at sea. Mountains seem to do peculiar things to the sky." "It’s the clouds, Captain Torl," Keselo explained. "Most of the time, I’d imagine, the clouds out over the sea sort of plod along from here to there. When they come to mountains, though, they have to climb up one side and then slide down the other. That sort of scrambles them, so they’re thicker in some places and thinner in others. That’s why we see so many different shades of red in a mountain sunset.

Colors matter to us. Color TVs, printers, and books are more prized than their black-and-white cousins. It’s natural to expect that an extra dimension of color would be a spectacular thing to see. To learn that it could be taken for granted threatens to drain color of its magic. But of course, all of us—monochromat, dichromat, trichromat, or tetrachromat—take the colors that we see for granted. Each of us is stuck in our own Umwelt. As I wrote in the introduction, this is a book not about superiority but about diversity. The real glory of colors isn’t that some individuals see more of them, but that there’s such a range of possible rainbows.

Jumping into action, I chased after them to the bank of lifts. Sean pressed the button to go down as I caught up to them. “Talk to me. Give me ten minutes.” She turned to look at me, a galaxy of emotion in her eyes. “There’s nothing—” “Please,” I urged, almost begging. The lift doors slid open and she stepped inside. I followed suit, while Sean hung back. “Actually, I need to use the bathroom. I’ll meet you in the lobby, Eilish,” he said just as the doors closed. “Sean!” she yelled, but he was already gone. If looks could kill, Cassidy would be six feet under. Eilish glared at the smooth, polished metal with absolute murder in her eyes. I, on the other hand, could’ve fucking kissed her cousin. With tongue.

That woman.” My cousin placed his hands on his hips. “She is a harbinger of ulcers and alcoholism

ECassChoosesPikachu: If you don’t hear from me in an hour, a blue blood has poisoned my tea with narcissism or strangled me with grandmother’s pearls. LucyFitz to ECassChoosesPikachu: Your cousin says “She better put a ring on it.” Any idea what he’s talking about…?

Two days later, on August 17, Smith’s Cove was abuzz with activity. The bulldozer was scraping a deep pathway from the beach, past the beach shack, heading up toward the Cave-In Pit, and the pump was pulling water from the bottom of the freshly-dug shaft located partly up the hill. Bobby was working near the beach shack with Andrew Demont, Leonard Kaizer, and Cyril Hiltz--young, local men who were helping Bobby to clear brush and burn it in an empty 50-gallon drum that sat on the shoreline. Both Dunfield and Karl Graeser were also on site. The air was electric with optimism and urgency. My father needed to take the boat over to mainland so he could visit his bank in Chester before closing time--papers had to be signed before Dunfield’s funds could be released. Dad was running late, but before he went up to the cabin to change his clothes for the trip ashore, he decided to take one last look in the new shaft to see how well the pump was getting rid of water. This newest shaft was behind the beach shack at a point where the land had started to rise to go up to the clearing. The shaft was large and deep (10 feet by 30 feet by 27 feet deep) and had three or four feet of water in the bottom. Dad peered down into the shaft, and without a sound, he tumbled in. Bobby saw it happen, dropped the bushes he had in his hands, and raced over to help. Others did, too. Bobby started down the ladder, but suddenly fell into the shaft. Karl Graeser was right behind Bobby, and began to climb down, but he lost consciousness and slid into the shaft, too. Cyril Hiltz followed Karl, and Cyril’s cousin, Andrew Demont, was close behind. Leonard Kaizer was the last man to rush in to help the others. One-by-one, as each man tried to climb down the ladder into the shaft, he lost consciousness and fell in. Ed White, a fireman from Buffalo, was visiting the island that day with a group of friends. He heard the cries for help and rushed to the shaft. His wife pleaded with him not to go down, but White tied a handkerchief around his face and had someone lower him into the shaft. He was able to get a rope around Leonard Kaizer, so that those at the top could pull him out. Then White went after Andrew Demont, who was unconscious with his arms locked around a steel pipe, which supported him above water. Even in his unconscious state, Demont lashed out and punched White. But the fireman prevailed and got the rope harness around him so that he could be pulled from the shaft. Ed White was a hero. He saved Leonard Kaizer and Andy Demont that day. But he could do no more. By then, he, too, was feeling the effects of the invisible gas. On that fateful day, August 17, 1965, Cyril Hiltz, Karl Graeser, Bob Restall, Sr., and Bob Restall, Jr. all lost their lives. The coroner’s ruling was “death by drowning.

The 20th Century has added little to the tradition. Charlie Manson, called the “LSD madman” by the press, was able to convert his followers to believe that he was both Jesus and Satan only after he had supplemented that acid diet with heavy doses of these deliriant drugs, especially belladonna and jimson weed (the American botanical cousin of mandrake). According to Ed Sanders’ account of the Manson cult, The Family, one of the disciples suffered a 40-point IQ drop after a few belladonna trips with Charlie, and is now in a California mental hospital.