Fs Was Quotes

Another werewolf thing. Like most animals, we spent a large part of our lives engaged in the three Fs of basic survival. Feeding, fighting and... reproduction.

as with any mystery, you have to address the four Fs.” No one dared ask. “Who the fuck, what the fuck, where the fuck and why the fuck,” Lamb continued

Bridget decided she should at least enjoy some of the advantages of having a pretend boyfriend, especially the 3 Fs. Flowers. Fine Dining. Fine-looking man. And threw in an N: No expectations.

Holding your hand Was an art that even I could not understand. But I would have given all the time I had to master it.

And I am forever grateful That you know every inch of me.

You saved me From the dangers of my mind, Your hand Was the only one That could reach me.

During this time I quit attending classes at the university, and my grades rose from four Fs to three Bs and an A.

I’m telling you, go hook up. It isn’t like you’ll ever see him again. Fun Florida Fling. Ha-ha, the three Fs!” I want to laugh, but I shake my head. “No way. That’s all I need. To have sex, get pregnant or get an STD, or worse, catch feelings for the dude. He’s obviously a player.

The major characteristics discoverable by the stranger in Mr F.'s Aunt, were extreme severity and grim taciturnity; sometimes interrupted by a propensity to offer remarks in a deep warning voice, which, being totally uncalled for by anything said by anybody, and traceable to no association of ideas, confounded and terrified the Mind.

it funny how in school, the best grade is an A, but in the breast department, you never want an A? You want the breasts that get bad grades? The Breast School dropouts? The ones that get Ds and Fs? Hilarious.

You became the occupant of my mind, The beat of my heart, And the tranquility in my soul. You became my life, My solace, The best person I ever knew.

when it is but it ain't Some of us love badly. Sometimes the love is the type of love that implodes. Folds in on itself. Eats its insides. Turns wine to poison. Behaves poorly in restaurants. Drinks. Kisses other people. Comes back to your bed at 4am smelling like everything outside. Asks about your ex. Is jealous of your ex. Thinks everyone a rival. Some of us love others badly, love ourselves worse. Some of us love horrid, love beastly. Love sick love anti light. Sometimes the love can’t go home at night, can’t sleep with itself, cannot contain itself, catches fire, destroys the stomach, strips buildings, goes missing. Punches. Smashes heirlooms. Tells lies. The best lies. F*s around. Writes poems, impresses people. Chases lovers into corners. Leaves them longing. Sea sick. Says yes. Means anything but. Tricks the body. Kills the body. Dances wild and walks away, smiling.

boy is getting all Ds and Fs in math so his parents send him to Catholic school. On his first report card, his parents are shocked to see their son getting straight As. When his parents ask him why, he says, “Well, when I went into the chapel and saw that guy nailed to a plus sign, I knew they were serious.

Resilient One of the very qualities I loved about you Was your bond with God, And how it was unwavering Even in the fiercest of storms. That no matter what happened, Your faith did not falter, and you accepted that you were never alone.

Mr F.'s Aunt, who had eaten her pie with great solemnity, and who had been elaborating some grievous scheme of injury in her mind since her first assumption of that public position on the Marshal's steps, took the present opportunity of addressing the following Sibyllic apostrophe to the relict of her late nephew. 'Bring him for'ard, and I'll chuck him out o' winder!' Flora tried in vain to soothe the excellent woman by explaining that they were going home to dinner. Mr F.'s Aunt persisted in replying, 'Bring him for'ard and I'll chuck him out o' winder!' Having reiterated this demand an immense number of times, with a sustained glare of defiance at Little Dorrit, Mr F.'s Aunt folded her arms, and sat down in the corner of the pie-shop parlour; steadfastly refusing to budge until such time as 'he' should have been 'brought for'ard,' and the chucking portion of his destiny accomplished.

A good story, well told, makes you realize you were yearning for something you had no name for, something you didn’t even know you wanted.

You bring me happiness, But you are not the cure For my sadness. That I must find On my own.

You get a lot of A’s and B’s in school. In the stock market, you get a lot of F’s. And if you’re right six or seven times out of ten, you’re very good.

You changed in a way where we would no longer be close, and I changed where your life wasn't worth mine.

I am thankful for the ones that have seen the most of me, and stayed. I am thankful for the ones Who left Before knowing all of me.

My love for you Never abandoned me, Even when you did.

I must constantly remind myself That no one is guaranteed tomorrow.

Baird liked to think of it as the three Fs.

It was marvelous that I found my best friend and soul mate all in the same person.

You are half of me, A purer, gentler half. I am not whole when you Are not whole yourself.

Little Dorrit that she had not seen Mr F.'s Aunt so full of life and character for weeks; that she would find it necessary to

The act of an apology Does not hold the power to instantly heal, But it gives enough momentum To start moving forward.

Fs Are "Fabulous" Hey, Mom and Dad! I got my grades! And you'll be thrilled to hear the marks on our report cards are changed around this year. A bunch of kids were telling me this morning on the bus, that they had heard some teachers say that Fs are "fabulous." And Ds are proudly given out for work that's "dynamite." They're used to honor kids like me, whose brains are really bright. So C of course is super "cool"- I've got a few of those. I wish they could be Ds and Fs, but that's the way it goes. I'm pleased to see my teacher didn't give an A or B. I've worked too hard for one of those. Gosh, aren't you proud of me? I see you don't believe me. You think that I am lying? At least you will agree that I should get an A for trying!

Sometimes all we have left are prayers to God. Situations escape from our grasps, and we are left physically hopeless. The hope lies within our words, which are carried by the wind to the unknown. Maybe they enter someone else’s mind, or land in a pile of prayers, that mercilessly stack in front of God. They sit, waiting to be answered right away, in time, or never. The pleasure is not ours to know.

I’ve read all the briefing materials they sent. Do you have any insights beyond that?” “I’ve heard that the first physical training isn’t quite impossible, and that the integrative abilities the FS requires make advanced study oral exams seem extraordinarily simple-minded.

It is easy to forget how mysterious and mighty stories are. They do their work in silence, invisibly. They work with all the internal materials of the mind and self. They become part of you while changing you. Beware the stories you read or tell; subtly, at night, beneath the waters of consciousness, they are altering your world. —BEN OKRI

F@#$ing F#$%s things up

Despite it all, we are here

We are constantly reminded  that the good parts in life will always outshine the bad.

My greatest fear is losing who I am—

I refuse to store All my joy in you. For if you ever leave, I would not know what to do.

At the earliest stage, the only people who can invest in you are three Fs: friends, family and fools.

You have to promise me That this is something We will work on. We will argue, we will fight, But we must make sure That it won’t be the end of us.

your arms resemble a home for my soul.

4 Fs: find ’em, feel ’em, fug ’em, and forget ’em.

Trying to find inner peace within desperate situations is one of the most challenging situations we face... RIP Robin Williams

Mr F.'s Aunt, who had eaten her pie with great solemnity, and who had been elaborating some grievous scheme of injury in her mind

Mr F.'s Aunt, who had eaten her pie with great solemnity,

Rouse You make me feel All the love That I have lost in my lifetime.

One of the only thoughts that can get me through a day Is that whatever happens is meant to happen, And for everything that leaves, There is always something better on the way.

Julia had a rule for managing husbands: feed them, flatter them, and, er, fornicate with them. (She usually used a different f-word when mentioning the last item of the Rule of the Three Fs.)

The goals installed in Homo sapiens, that problem-solving, social species, are not just the Four Fs. High on the list are understanding the environment and securing the cooperation of others.

There’s no research that finds that failing grades motivate students, and plenty of research that has found the opposite—that a student who receives 0s and Fs becomes less motivated, not more motivated. Guskey (2009) found that “no studies support the use of low grades as punishment. Instead of prompting greater effort, low grades more often cause students to withdraw from learning.

oo-la: noun. That state of awesomeness. It is when your life is balanced and growing in the seven key areas of life; the 7 F’s of Oola (fitness, finance, family, field, faith, friends, and fun).

Like he took the word ‘nigga’ and gave it a whole new meaning—Never Ignorant Getting Goals Accomplished. And he said Thug Life meant—” “The Hate U Give Little Infants F---s Everybody,” I censor myself.

Tucked in the P section was a pelican feather, forget-me-not blossoms pressed between two pages of the Fs, a dried mushroom under M. So many treasures were stashed among the pages, the book would not completely close.

I was told that before Our souls are exhaled into our bodies We meet one another in a place which we cannot remember Any longer. When I met you, It was as if there was already An established comfort and familiarity Between us.

There are times when I wanted the worst for you, Hoping you would understand The roots of my thoughts. I needed you to feel the pain I held, But here I am Praying you never feel like I did. Hoping no one ever sees you Like the way you saw me.

Days after setting off the bomb, the duo murdered a young MIT police officer during their attempted escape, and two years earlier Tamerlan and another Muslim immigrant slit the throats of three Jewish men on the tenth anniversary of the 9/11 attack—which I believe was also the work of immigrants. CNN headline after the attack: “Boston Bombing Shouldn’t Derail Immigration Reform.”32 Leaving aside the wanton slaughter, Dzhokhar and Tamerlan were tremendous assets to America. They were on welfare and getting mostly Fs in school. Good work, U.S. immigration service!

Ovšem, je to jasné: chceme-li stanovit skutečnou hodnotu funkce, musíme určit její limitu. A je jasné, že limitou včerejšího hloupého „rozplynutí ve vesmíru“ je smrt. Protože smrt je vlastně mé úplné rozplynutí ve vesmíru. Označíme-li tedy lásku L a smrt S, bude L = f(S), tj. láska a smrt…

Carefully she took the paper off to find a secondhand Webster's dictionary. "Oh, Tate, thank you." "Look inside," he said. Tucked in the P section was a pelican feather, forget-me-not blossoms pressed between two pages of the Fs, a dried mushroom under M. So many treasures were stashed among the pages, the book would not completely close.

As the non-AD/HD person continues on through life, the pieces continue to make sense. They don’t get A’s one day, and F’s the next; they aren’t called creative one day and lazy, unmotivated, and irresponsible the next. When people without these difficulties try to do something, their efforts usually pay off. In other words, there’s a direct relationship between the effort and the results.

On a spring day in 1988…a Massachusetts man who collected books about local history was rummaging through a bin in a New Hampshire antiques barn when something caught his eye. Beneath texts on fertilizers and farm machines lay a slim, worn pamphlet with tea-colored paper covers, titled Tamerlane and Other Poems, by an unnamed author identified simply as “a Bostonian.” He was fairly certain he had found something exceptional, paid the $15 price, and headed home, where Tamerlane would spend only one night. The next day, he contacted Sotheby’s, and they confirmed his suspicion that he had just made one of the most exciting book discoveries in years. The pamphlet was a copy of Edgar Allan Poe’s first text, written when he was only fourteen years old, a find that fortune-seeking collectors have imagined happening upon probably more than they’d like to admit. The humble-looking, forty-page pamphlet was published in 1827 by Calvin F.S. Thomas, a relatively unknown Boston printer who specialized in apothecary labels, and its original price was about twelve cents. But this copy, looking good for its 161 years, most of which were probably spent languishing in one dusty attic box after another, would soon be auctioned for a staggering $198,000.

Meanwhile, the parasympathetic nervous system (PNS) arises from different midbrain/brain-stem nuclei that project down the spine to the body. In contrast to the SNS and the four Fs, the PNS is about calm, vegetative states. The SNS speeds up the heart; the PNS slows it down. The PNS promotes digestion; the SNS inhibits it (which makes sense—if you’re running for your life, avoiding being someone’s lunch, don’t waste energy digesting breakfast).

The sympathetic nervous system (SNS) mediates the body’s response to arousing circumstances, for example, producing the famed “fight or flight” stress response. To use the feeble joke told to first-year medical students, the SNS mediates the “four Fs—fear, fight, flight, and sex.” Particular midbrain/brain-stem nuclei send long SNS projections down the spine and on to outposts throughout the body, where the axon terminals release the neurotransmitter norepinephrine.

accordingly led the way across the road to the pie-shop in question: Mr F.'s Aunt stalking across in the rear, and putting herself in the way of being run over, with a perseverance worthy of a better cause. When the 'three kidney ones,' which were to be a blind to the conversation, were set before them on three little tin platters, each kidney one ornamented with a hole at the top, into which the civil man poured hot gravy out of a spouted can as if he were feeding three lamps, Flora took out her pocket-handkerchief.

The seven people murdered by Chechen immigrants Dzhokhar and Tamerlan Tsarnaev, who planted a bomb at the finish line of the Boston Marathon in 2013. In addition to the three people killed in the blast, including an eight-year-old boy, dozens of Americans suffered severe injuries in the marathon bombing and are still learning to live with prosthetics and other artificial devices to replace lost legs, feet, eyes, and hearing—all thanks to an immigration policy that allows other countries to dump their losers on us. Days after setting off the bomb, the duo murdered a young MIT police officer during their attempted escape, and two years earlier Tamerlan and another Muslim immigrant slit the throats of three Jewish men on the tenth anniversary of the 9/11 attack—which I believe was also the work of immigrants. CNN headline after the attack: “Boston Bombing Shouldn’t Derail Immigration Reform.”32 Leaving aside the wanton slaughter, Dzhokhar and Tamerlan were tremendous assets to America. They were on welfare and getting mostly Fs in school. Good work, U.S. immigration service!

I could see right past her fake laugh and smile, Seeing that she was still in love. She was stuck in the past, Thinking about all the memories that she held of him, Only to know that he wasn't there anymore. He broke her ever so dearly, But she was still longing for his touch, Not mine. I wasn't the one that was for her, I was a person she wouldn't see herself with. She already made up her mind. Her laugh was shallow and her eyes cried of sorrow. She would not try to keep this going, I could see it. For she was talking to me, but thinking of him.

I guess you’ll have to try to do something with F’s moon now. Presumably it’s dead. Or even try E.” He looked up at it, big in the blue sky. “Well, no. It’s too big. Too heavy.” Two minutes later: “Maybe you can just keep living on the ship, and stock up on whatever you run out of, from here and from E. Terraform F’s moon if you can. Or maybe you can resupply and get to another system entirely. I seem to recall there’s a G star just a few more light-years out.” Long silence. Then: “But you know, I bet they’re all like this one. I mean, they’re either going to be alive or dead, right? If they’ve got water and orbit in the habitable zone, they’ll be alive. Alive and poisonous. I don’t know. Maybe they could be alive and we live with them and the two systems pass each other by. But that doesn’t sound like life, does it? Living things eat. They have immune systems. So that’s going to be a problem, most of the time anyway. Invasive biology. Then on the dead worlds, those’ll be dry, and too cold, or too hot. So they’ll be useless unless they have water, and if they have water they’ll probably be alive. I know

Therefore Flora said, though still not without a certain boastfulness and triumph in her legacy, that Mr F.'s Aunt was 'very lively to-day, and she thought they had better go.' But Mr F.'s Aunt proved so lively as to take the suggestion in unexpected dudgeon and declare that she would not go; adding, with several injurious expressions, that if 'He'--too evidently meaning Clennam--wanted to get rid of her, 'let him chuck her out of winder;' and urgently expressing her desire to see 'Him' perform that ceremony. In this dilemma, Mr Pancks, whose resources appeared equal to any emergency in the Patriarchal waters, slipped on his hat, slipped out at the counting-house door, and slipped in again a moment afterwards with an artificial freshness upon him, as if he had been in the country for some weeks. 'Why, bless my heart, ma'am!' said Mr Pancks, rubbing up his hair in great astonishment, 'is that you? How do you do, ma'am? You are looking charming to-day! I am delighted to see you. Favour me with your arm, ma'am; we'll have a little walk together, you and me, if you'll honour me with your company.' And so escorted Mr F.'s Aunt down the private staircase of the counting-house with great gallantry and success. — Little Dorrit, Charles Dickens

He told me to imagine I had a test in school and I studied for an entire week, night and day. My friend spent the entire week playing video games and having fun at the beach. I ended up getting an A, and my friend got an F. So what if the teacher said, ‘it’s not fair that Bren got an A and his friend got an F. So we’re going to give you both C’s. Still passing, right? So it’s no big deal. Still plenty of cushion away from an F. The A earners shouldn’t be greedy.’ “My father let me think about this and then asked me what I’d do the next time a test came around. How would I prepare for it? It occurred to me that if I knew I really couldn’t earn an A, what was the point of killing myself? I told my father, and he agreed. In fact, he told me that soon the entire class would be getting Cs, and then Ds. And eventually Fs. Socialism at work.

There is no such thing as just a story. A story is always charged with meaning...And we can be sure that if we know a story well enough to tell it, it carries meaning for us. —ROBERT FULFORD

My father let me think about this and then asked me what I’d do the next time a test came around. How would I prepare for it? It occurred to me that if I knew I really couldn’t earn an A, what was the point of killing myself? I told my father, and he agreed. In fact, he told me that soon the entire class would be getting Cs, and then Ds. And eventually Fs. Socialism at work.

this point the value in f would be a map whose keys are strings and whose values are themselves stored as empty interface values: map[string]interface{}{        “Name”: “Wednesday”,        “Age”: 6,        “Parents”: []interface{}{            “Gomez”,            “Morticia”,        }, } To access this data we can use a type assertion to access f’s underlying map[string]interface{}: m := f.(map[string]interface{}) We can then iterate through the map

J.B : que signifie alors le hadith selon lequel, à la fin du cycle, le soleil et les étoiles se lèveront à l'ouest ? - F.S. : Il signifie d'abord qu'à partir d'une certaine époque les grand saints de l'islam seront surtout des maghrébins ; et c'est ce qu'on a constaté. Ensuit, que le Mahdi viendra de l'ouest. Et enfin, que l'Orient a besoin aujourd'hui, non certes des leçons de l'Occident moderne, mais d'une certaine aide du génie occidental mis en valeur par l'esprit métaphysicien et traditionnel, donc, dans une large mesure, par l'Orient... C'est la bonne part de leur esprit critique, de même que certaines de leurs qualités morales, que les Occidentaux guéris de la déviation moderne peuvent léguer aux Orientaux empoisonnés. "Un homme de la Tradition : Frithjof Schuon par JEAN BIES" (Revue Question DE. No 8. 3e Trimestre 1975)

the basic four “F”s of survival—feeding, fighting, fleeing, and mating—it

As tecnologias digitais criam o ambiente propício para uma nova forma de bricolagem, ou "colagem livre", como Brown chama-a. Muitos podem adicionar ou transformar as criações de outros. O melhor exemplo de larga escala desse tipo de criação até agora é o software livre ou software de código aberto (free software/open-source software FS/OSS). O FS/OSS é um tipo de software no qual o código fonte3 é compartilhado. Qualquer um pode obter uma cópia da tecnologia que permite que os programas FS/OSS funciona. E qualquer um que tenha interesse em aprender como uma certa tecnologia FS/OSS funciona pode brincar com o código. Essa oportunidade cria uma "plataforma de aprendizado completamente nova", como descreve Brown. "Assim que você começa a trabalhar nela, você (...) libera uma colagem livre na comunidade, de forma que outras pessoas possam olhar no seu código, brincar com ele, testá-lo, verem o que podem fazer para o melhorar". Cada atividade dessas é uma forma de aprendizado. "O código aberto tornou-se uma plataforma importante de aprendizado".

The governing pattern a culture obeys is a master story – one narrative in society that takes over the others, shrinking diversity and forming a monoculture. When you’re inside a master story at a particular time in history, you tend to accept its definition of reality. You unconsciously believe and act on certain things, and disbelieve and fail to act on other things. That’s the power of the monoculture; it’s able to direct us without us knowing too much about it.

Ki yi a hankali - Be careful.

Some words are like a debt - until you say them you are never truly free.

Spoken words had more weight than those that lay dormant as thoughts

You all got F’s!” Professor Sebastian thunders, getting wound up again.

Greed is merely a species of nearsightedness.

three fundamental “F’s”: family (relationships), fitness (health), and freedom (choice). Within this wealth trinity is where you will find true wealth and, yes, happiness.

If the path to experiencing one's feelings is blocked either the prohibitions of "poisonous pedagogy" or by the needs of the parents, then these feelings will have to be lived out. This can occur either in a destructive form, as in Hitler's case, or in a self-destructive one, as in Christiane F.'s. Or, as in the case of most criminals who end up in prison, this living out can lead to the destruction both of the self and of others.

There are moments where I am stopped— I forget the right way to go and even contemplate retracing my steps. To go back to where I used to be  in order to figure out where exactly I desire to go.

The younger selves who are trapped within me  have never felt that warm embrace. 

I am all these terrible deeds wrapped in skin

We had our goal, and the first question we asked was What makes someone a movie star (as opposed to simply an actor)? Movie stars tend to play likable characters who embody and depict the best of humanity: courage, ingenuity, success against the odds. I loved the idea of being a better person in a movie than I was in real life. I could protect people, I could kill bad things, I could fly, all the women would love me- they have to, it says right here in the script. I came up with a way to describe what makes a great movie star character: I call it the three Fs of movie stardom: You have to be able to fight, you have to be funny, and you have to be good at sex. Beneath the three Fs are our deepest human yearnings: fighting equates to safety, security and physical survival. Being funny equates to joy, happiness, and freedom from all negativity. And being good at sex equates to the promise of love. p214

There are days I do not feel as if I am living; instead, an existent being walking the various streets of life— not noticing all which surrounds them.

When I found the people who were right for me and did not have to run in circles for their love and acceptance, that is when I knew I was in good hands.

in the passing time we will work to make those oceans  into rivers, and then soon after, puddles.

The way you feel when you’re stuck at a crossroads,  not knowing which way is the right way,

For when the memories depart, I will know there are only  pleasant emotions behind the vague memory of our day.

many Fs on her report card or something. Anyway, my namesake, Perseus, had saved her

The first thing I fell in love with Was the way you wrote, So sweet, So innocent, Light on my mind And had me high All the time.

I cannot recall A stressful silence Taking over for our words. She was thrilled to see me, As I was in awe of her. And together We both felt utterly complete.

At the same time you're also aware that upon attempting to re-enter normal life from "mom land" or "middle aged" land, or both - you'll be seen as a "weirdo" or "cranky" or "stubborn," or all of the above. Doesn't it make sense you'd think about just not going back? The end of the heroes journey is like the path of a rocket re-entering Earth's atmosphere. It must burn. Pieces blister and break off. You're not the same splashing down into the ocean as when you left. When you took off your boosters were ablaze, fueling the epic push of new life out of yourself and into Earth's orbit. Everyone at Mission Control stood and applauded. But the return is more like free-fall. The rocket that lands in the ocean doesn't look like the one that departed. It's a little pod-like thing, a charred husk of what took off. Instead of wings spreading, a parachute awkwardly collapses into the water. A butterfly in reverse. What's left is this metal shell, just a nub of what was there before. And yet, it's a nub that's been to space for f---'s sake. Just surviving is the success. So much of who I was - my daily habits, my identifying clothing - had to get thrown away in making room to become a mother. What's left of me is now sharing space with a little boy. And as a result, my mental capacity has been reduced from a decent three bed two bath apartment to at best a little tenement studio. While the tight space creates some cons, the pro is that what can come in and what cannot is pretty clear.

To feel lost is natural, In time You will find yourself Where you need to be, And be more settled Within your surroundings.

The three Fs were becoming four. Because I needed Elise to feel for me.

Fluxers were one of the five Fs. They could turn into animals. Flyers flew. Flares had fire magic. Fuzzies had animal magic. Flickers had invisibility magic of one sort or another.

The public-sector banks would then be recapitalized for their non-performing loans and losses with public funds by equity infusion by the government.

Keep on talking about how lovely Our future will be. As every word escapes your mouth, Glimpses of hope Appear in my heart.

A Problem Play? It's not so surprising, then, that for the last 125 years All's Well has been known as a 'problem play' - a term used by the critic F.S. Boas to describe those plays by Shakespeare that mix comedy with tragedy, resolution with ambiguity, in complex and often unreconciled ways. Over the years, the term 'problem play' has expanded to include many plays that defy the conventions of genre or that raise questions about the ethical principles guiding its characters and events. But its worth noting that, for Boas and his contemporaries, the term 'problem play' applied most readily to the challenging realist drama of their time - and in particular to the work of Henrik Ibsen, who presented audiences with difficult, headstrong characters who, unconventionally, were often women. Rather than conforming to the stereotype of the quiet, compliant wife, mother, or daughter, these characters respond to social inequalities with a defiance, recklessness, and selfishness that is at once damaging and liberating. Whether this rings true for Shakespeare's Helena depends on how we read and perform her. But one thing that does remain constant, across time, place, and production, is that All's Well and its characters are never straightforwardly easy or likable. Perhaps this is why they remain so relevant, like it or not, to life as know it today.

FS: After they threw you out, that must have made things a bit difficult. SM:     I think they all hated my guts by the time they threw me out. But I’d been screaming to get out of the bloody thing for awhile, it had run its course. FS: It ended in Japan didn’t it, I heard you fell out of a … SM:     I fell out of the train. It was three hours after them bringing you around Saki after Saki after Saki. But anyhow I fell from the top step of the train. They’re very safety conscious and everything, but somehow I managed to break my head open on the platform. It just brought matters to a head. FS: It wasn’t moving, the train? SM:     I haven’t got a clue. I couldn’t tell you if it was moving or not. FS: It’s a bit harsh sacking a man for falling off of a train. SM: Well, it wasn’t the first incident of that nature.