Dan Coats Quotes

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Listen, children: Your father is dead. From his old coats I'll make you little jackets; I'll make you little trousers From his old pants. There'll be in his pockets Things he used to put there, Keys and pennies Covered with tobacco; Dan shall have the pennies To save in his bank; Anne shall have the keys To make a pretty noise with. Life must go on, Though good men die; Anne, eat your breakfast; Dan, take your medicine; Life must go on; I forget just why.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
One touch from you...,” water coated his lips, gathered in thick drops on his dark lashes, “makes me feel more than a whole goddamned orgy.
Aleksandr Voinov (Special Forces - Mercenaries Part I (Special Forces, #2 part 1))
If you start Forrest Gump at exactly 10:38:57 PM on New Years Eve, you can ring in the new year with Lieutenant Dan.
stained hanes (94,000 Wasps in a Trench Coat)
Right near the corner was a picture Neil didn't recognize at all: a shot of Neil and Andrew standing alone. They were bundled up in their matching coats and staring each other down barely a breath apart. It took Neil a moment to place it; the people packed into the background didn't look like a game crowd. The windows finally gave it away. Dan had taken this at Upstate Regional Airport on their way to play against Texas. Neil hadn't even realized she'd been watching them. Neil had gotten caught in a couple of her group pictures, but this was the only one up that had Neil's natural looks. Dan had even caught Neil on his right side, so the bandage over his tattoo wasn't showing. This was a picture of Nathaniel Wesninski; this was the moment Neil gave Andrew his name. Neil reached out to tear the picture down but stopped as soon as he caught hold of the edge. He'd come to Palmetto State to play, but he'd also come because Kevin was proof that a real person existed behind all of his lies. In May both Nathaniel and Neil would be gone, but in June this picture would still be here. He'd be a tiny part of the Foxhole Court for years to come. It was comforting, or it should be. Neil didn't think comfort should feel like such a sick knot in his stomach.
Nora Sakavic (The King's Men (All for the Game, #3))
I was alone alright. And life surely had been a hard trial for me, so far. From the time mama and Katie fell sick, life had been one misery after another. But here I was. Still with breath in my lungs. And blood in my veins. And memories and voices in my heart. Good ones. And life was going on, all around me. With or without me, it was going on. It weren't a matter of the whole thing stopping or the whole thing going on. The whole thing was going on. It was only a matter of me standing up and deciding what part I had to play in it all. I could be the quitting kind. Or not. I could be the kind of man my mama and papa had raised, or not. I rose to my feet and did the best I could to scrape the worst of the mud off my coat and pants. "Sarah's going to be somebody's horse," I said to myself. "And I'm sure as hell gonna make sure she's mine.
Dan Gemeinhart (Some Kind of Courage)
See my coat over there? I want you to look in the pockets.” CyFi’s heavy coat is a few yards away tossed over the seat of a swing. Lev goes to the swing set and picks up the coat. He reaches into an inside pocket and finds, of all things, a gold cigarette lighter. He pulls it out. “Is that it, Cy? You want a cigarette?” If a cigarette would bring CyFi out of this, Lev would be the first to light it for him. There are things far more illegal than cigarettes, anyway. “Check the other pockets.” Lev searches the other pockets for a pack of cigarettes, but there are none. Instead he finds a small treasure trove. Jeweled earrings, watches, a gold necklace, a diamond bracelet—things that shimmer and shine even in the dim daylight. “Cy, what did you do . . . ?” “I already told you, it wasn’t me! Now go take all that stuff and get rid of it. Get rid of it and don’t let me see where you put it.” Then he covers his eyes like it’s a game of hide-and-seek. “Go—before he changes my mind!” Lev pulls everything out of the pocket and, cradling it in his arms, runs to the far end of the playground. He digs in the cold sand and drops it all in, kicking sand back over it. When he’s done, he smoothes it over with the side of his shoe and drops a scattering of leaves above it. He goes back to CyFi, who’s sitting there just like Lev left him, hands over his face. “It’s done,” Lev says. “You can look now.” When Cy takes his hands away, there’s blood all over his face from the cuts on his hands. Cy stares at his hands, then looks at Lev helplessly, like . . . well, like a kid who just got hurt in a playground. Lev half expects him to cry. “You wait here,” Lev says. “I’ll go get some bandages.” He knows he’ll have to steal them. He wonders what Pastor Dan would say about all the things he’s been stealing lately. “Thank you, Fry,” Cy says. “You did good, and I ain’t gonna forget it.” The Old Umber lilt is back in his voice. The twitching has stopped.
Neal Shusterman (Unwind (Unwind, #1))
He ran long at the White House, and arrived late to his next meeting with Hillary Clinton, Jake Sullivan and Frank Ruggiero—their first major strategy session on Taliban talks after the secret meeting with A-Rod. She was waiting in her outer office, a spacious room paneled in white and gilt wood, with tasseled blue and pink curtains and an array of colorfully upholstered chairs and couches. In my time reporting to her later, I only ever saw Clinton take the couch, with guests of honor in the large chair kitty-corner to her. She’d left it open for him that day. “He came rushing in. . . . ” Clinton later said. “And, you know, he was saying ‘oh I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.’ ” He sat down heavily and shrugged off his coat, rattling off a litany of his latest meetings, including his stop-in at the White House. “That was typical Richard. It was, like, ‘I’m doing a million things and I’m trying to keep all the balls in the air,’ ” she remembered. As he was talking, a “scarlet red” flush went up his face, according to Clinton. He pressed his hands over his eyes, his chest heaving. “Richard, what’s the matter?” Clinton asked. “Something horrible is happening,” he said. A few minutes later, Holbrooke was in an ambulance, strapped to a gurney, headed to nearby George Washington University Hospital, where Clinton had told her own internist to prepare the emergency room. In his typically brash style, he’d demanded that the ambulance take him to the more distant Sibley Memorial Hospital. Clinton overruled him. One of our deputies on the SRAP team, Dan Feldman, rode with him and held his hand. Feldman didn’t have his BlackBerry, so he scrawled notes on a State Department expense form for a dinner at Meiwah Restaurant as Holbrooke dictated messages and a doctor assessed him. The notes are a nonlinear stream of Holbrooke’s indomitable personality, slashed through with medical realities. “Call Eric in Axelrod’s office,” the first read. Nearby: “aortic dissection—type A . . . operation risk @ > 50 percent”—that would be chance of death. A series of messages for people in his life, again interrupted by his deteriorating condition: “S”—Secretary Clinton—“why always together for medical crises?” (The year before, he’d been with Clinton when she fell to the concrete floor of the State Department garage, fracturing her elbow.) “Kids—how much love them + stepkids” . . . “best staff ever” . . . “don’t let him die here” . . . “vascular surgery” . . . “no flow, no feeling legs” . . . “clot” . . . and then, again: “don’t let him die here want to die at home w/ his fam.” The seriousness of the situation fully dawning on him, Holbrooke turned to job succession: “Tell Frank”—Ruggiero—“he’s acting.” And finally: “I love so many people . . . I have a lot left to do . . . my career in public service is over.” Holbrooke cracked wise until they put him under for surgery. “Get me anything you need,” he demanded. “A pig’s heart. Dan’s heart.
Ronan Farrow (War on Peace: The End of Diplomacy and the Decline of American Influence)
Let's name some names, shall we? Good arrangers deserve your sheet music dollar: Dan Coates, Richard Bradley, Dan Fox, John Brimhall, Denes Agay, Phillip Keveren - these are all excellent arrangers you should buy. There are others.
Dan Starr (How to Play Much Better on Any Sort of Keyboarded Instrument)
Like his rival Brigham Young, Strang took multiple wives, including one who dressed as a man in a black coat and stovepipe hat, called herself Charles Douglas and claimed to be Strang’s “personal assistant.” During his six-year reign Strang survived a naval battle with mainlanders as well as a trip to U.S. District Court in Detroit, where he was accused of counterfeiting, piracy, and interfering with the mail and murder, among other charges. “He talked to that jury and his tongue was like silver. And that jury believed him and said, ‘Not Guilty’ to all charges against him,” Smith recalled. “King James came back to Beaver Island more full of himself than ever, even the U.S. Government couldn’t beat him.” But the man Smith called a “cocky little tyrant” was not all trouble. He had so many followers in his church—up to 12,000 at its peak—that he was able to get elected to the Michigan Assembly in Lansing, where by all accounts he acquitted himself well as a lawmaker. He established a newspaper. He was
Dan Egan (The Death and Life of the Great Lakes)
Collier understood and preached this swim-with-current-rather-than-against strategy. Do not arrive as an interruption or disruption, attempting to divert your reader's attention from the object it is focused on, fighting to interest him in something different from what he is already, at this moment, interested in. Instead, align yourself with the subjects already possessing his attention, the matters already garnering his interest, the self-talk conversation already occurring in his mind, and the conversations he is already having around the water-cooler at work or at the kitchen table at home with peers, friends, and family. About this, Collier wrote: “Study your reader first — your product second…. The reader of your letter wants certain things and the desire for them is, consciously or unconsciously, the dominant idea in his mind all the time. He is also engaged by the news or events or public conversations of the day. Put yourself in his place. If you were deep in discussion with a friend over some matter and a stranger came up and said: ‘Mister, I have a fine coat I want to sell you!’ — what would you do? The same thing happens when you approach a man by mail. He is in discussion with himself. If you just butt in, will you be welcome? How would you do it if approaching him and his friend in person? You'd listen and get the trend of the conversation. Then, when you chimed in, it would be with a remark on a related subject. Then you could gradually bring the talk around logically to the point you wanted to discuss. Study your reader. Know what interests him. Listen to the conversation he is already having with himself. Enter where he already is.” There are some obvious, perennially occurring attention dominators, such as seasons and holidays, and linking to these — regardless of whether your business naturally links or not — can be extremely helpful. You need not be a florist, jeweler, or restaurant to utilize Valentine's Day, for example. Beyond that, and deeper than that, every customer group has some shared item on their minds. Know it. Start your conversation with them with it. And be sure to take advantage of one of the great advantages of today's online media, including e-mail, blogs, and social media sites — being day to day, even hour by hour, timely. You can link a marketing message to world or local, financial, or cultural news of the moment — and you should.
Dan S. Kennedy (The Ultimate Sales Letter: Attract New Customers. Boost your Sales.)
I’ve only ever seen Dan in a T-shirt and jeans. He has no coat or blazer that I know of. In the winter he wears this sort of windbreaker-type blue jacket that can’t possibly be warm enough, but if you ever ask him if he’s cold, he says no, he’s fine.
Lauren Graham (Someday, Someday, Maybe)
Life is absurd; we must learn to enjoy the beautiful amber that coats the fossils of death strewn all around us.
Dan Johnson (Catawampusland)
Former director of National Intelligence Dan Coats testified in January 2019 that Russia was still sowing social, racial, and political discord in the United States through influence operations, and several months later, Robert Mueller said the same. “It wasn’t a single attempt,” he testified to Congress. “They’re doing it as we sit here. And they expect to do it during the next campaign.
Anonymous (A Warning)
All I can do is ask the question,” Trump replied. Referring to his director of national intelligence, the president continued, “My people came to me, Dan Coats came to me and some others and said they think it’s Russia. I have President Putin. He just said it’s not Russia. I will say this: I don’t see any reason why it would be.
Philip Rucker (A Very Stable Genius: Donald J. Trump's Testing of America)
Our ability to cultivate joy has not been scientifically studied as thoroughly as our ability to cultivate happiness. In 1978, psychologists Philip Brickman, Dan Coates, and Ronnie Janoff-Bulman published a landmark study that found that lottery winners were not significantly happier than those who had been paralyzed in an accident. From this and subsequent work came the idea that people have a “set point” that determines their happiness over the course of their life. In other words, we get accustomed to any new situation and inevitably return to our general state of happiness.
Dalai Lama XIV (The Book of Joy: Lasting Happiness in a Changing World)
La rue fait de chaque journée une suite de questions piège, et chaque réponse incorrecte peut provoquer une raclée, une balle dans la peau, une grossesse non désirée. Personne n'en sort indemne. Pourtant, la chaleur qui s dégage de ce danger permanent, de ce flirt constant avec la mort, est excitante.
Ta-Nehisi Coates (Between the World and Me)
J'ai commencé à comprendre que le but de mon éducation était une forme d'inconfort, un processus qui n'était pas destiné à me récompenser avec mon propre Rêve personnel mais qui, au contraire, devait briser tous les rêves, tous les mythes réconfortants de l'Afrique, de l'Amérique, de toutes les parties du monde, pour me laisser face à l'humanité dans ce qu'elle a de plus terrible.
Ta-Nehisi Coates (Between the World and Me)
Mais une société qui en protège certains par un filet invisible d'écoles, d'emprunts immobiliers subventionnés, de richesses accumulées, et ne consent à t'offrir que la protection d'une justice criminelle, cette société là a échoué dans la mise en pratique de ses bonnes intentions - à moins qu'elle n'ait réussi à imposer quelque chose de bien plus sombre. Quel que soit le nom qu'on donne à ce système, il n'a eu qu'un seul résultat: notre infirmité face aux forces criminelles à l'oeuvre dans ce monde. Que l'agent de ces forces soit blanc ou noir n'a aucune importance- ce qui en a en revanche c'est notre condition; c'est le système qui fait de ton corps un objet destructible.
Ta-Nehisi Coates (Between the World and Me)
It was bitterly cold. A doughnut glaze of ice already coated the shallow end of the lake.
Dan Fesperman (Winter Work)
Blood was splashed all over the interior. The ‘Guide to Kulchur’ was soaked in blood. Blood was spattered all over coats, blankets, sheets, and a cut-down mattress on a bunk: in one corner these things were stiff with blood. This was the practical issue of the conferences of statesmen, of ‘failures to reach unanimity on certain points’, of high principles and councils of war: this was what the talk of Empire and Sovereignty and Fatherland and Motherland really meant. This was how they solved their problems. Just this.
Dan Billany (The Trap)
On a blazing, dusty street corner in the broken city, he took the chapbook out of his coat pocket, and slid off the strap. He found his pen – an antique plunger-action fountain, for his traditionalist tastes applied as much to the means of marking as what should be marked – and began to write.
Dan Abnett (Horus Rising (Horus Heresy #1))