Gears 5 Quotes

This is the Valdezinator, of course!’ He puffed out his chest. ‘It works by, um, translating your feelings into music as you manipulate the gears. It’s really meant for me, a child of Hephaestus, to use, though. I don’t know if you could –’ ‘I am the god of music!’ Apollo cried. ‘I can certainly master the Valdezinator. I must! It is my duty!

It wasn't aliens that first made us gear up for war; it was our fellow humans.

I've got this." Apollo stepped forward. His fiery armor was so bright it was hard to look at, and his matching Ray-Bans and perfect smile made him look like a male model for battle gear. "God of medicine, at your service." He passed his hand over Annabeth's face and spoke an incantation. Immediately the bruises faded. Her cuts and scars disappeared. Her arm straightened, and she sighed in her sleep. Apollo grinned. "She'll be fine in a few minutes. Just enough time for me to compose a poem about our victory: 'Apollo and his friends save Olympus.' Good, eh?" Thanks, Apollo," I said. "I'll, um, let you handle the poetry.

She'd strayed from the true way of things. First you set yourself to rights. And then your house. And then your corner of the sky. And after that... Well, then she didn't rightly know what happened next. But she hoped that after that the world would start to run itself a bit, like a gear-watch proper fit and kissed wit oil. That was what she hoped would happen.

Mouth in gear, brain stuck in neutral.

Butch was quiet for a time. Then he said, "I think that's why I like Jane." "huh?" "When you look at her? You actually see her, and when's the last time that's happened for you?" V geared himself up, then stared hard into Butch's eyes. "I saw you. even though it was wrong. I saw you." Shit, he sounded sad. Sad and...lonely. Which made him want to change the subject.

Listen up,” I said urgently. “It’s time to round up your gear. I’m gonna check in with Patrick, and then we’re getting the flock out of here.” Ha-ha.

You going to try the rest of your gear on?" he asked on an exhale. "Or you want to whine about your pants a little more?" "Don't make me flip you off." "Why would I deprive you of a favorite hobby?" [Vishous to Butch]

C’mon, Devyn, move already. You’re like watching ice freeze. You keep this pace up and my grandkids will be able to finish the game for you. (Young Adron) Shut the fuck up, Adron, I’m thinking. (Young Devyn) Yeah, I can see the smoke coming out of your ears. What? You strip a gear or something trying to think? Want me to call Vik over to take your turn for you? (Young Adron)

I won't scatter your sorrow to the heartless sea. I will always be with you.

Apollo stepped forward. His fiery armour was so bright it was hard to look at, and his matching Ray-Bans and perfect smile made him look like a male model for battle gear.

He turned the crank handles, hoping the thing wouldn’t explode in his face. A few clear tones rang out-metallic yet warm. Leo manipulated the levers and gears. He recognized the song that sprang forth-the same wistful melody Calypso sang for him on Ogygia about homesickness and longing. But through the strings of the brass cone, the tune sounded even sadder, like a machine with a broken heart-the way Festus might sound if he could sing. Leo forgot Apollo was there. He played the song all the way through. When he was done, his eyes stung. He could almost smell the fresh-baked bread from Calypso’s kitchen. He could taste the only kiss she’d ever given him.

Droessen knew the properties of every kind of wood and paint and lacquer; he could finesse the gears of a clock until the spun with silent precision. And yet, though he could smile readily, charm easily, and play the part of a gentleman, he had never truly understood people or the workings of their steady-running but inconstant hearts.

This was why a guy needed to wear sneakers. He needed to have the appropriate footwear ready to go when it was time to rush toward the rest of his life.

More importantly, a towel has immense psychological value. For some reason, if a strag (strag: nonhitchhiker) discovers that a hitchhiker has his towel with him, he will automatically assume that he is also in possession of a toothbrush, washcloth, soap, tin of biscuits, flask, compass, map, ball of string, gnat spray, wet-weather gear, space suit etc., etc. Furthermore, the strag will then happily lend the hitchhiker any of these or a dozen other items that the hitchhiker might accidentally have “lost.” What the strag will think is that any man who can hitch the length and breadth of the Galaxy, rough it, slum it, struggle against terrible odds, win through and still know where his towel is, is clearly a man to be reckoned with.

A pendant in the shape of an angel whose wings were clockwork cogs and gears.

It was impossible not to see all the gears turning in his head. It was also easy to see the moment he stopped thinking and nodded yes anyway.

wasn’t the aliens that first made us gear up for war; it was our fellow humans.

It wasn’t the aliens that first made us gear up for war; it was our fellow humans.

La-Z-Boy type thing covered with bronze and silver gears. Kronos slashed, and I managed to jump straight up onto the seat. The throne whirred and hummed with secret mechanisms. Defense mode, it warned. Defense mode.

I bounded over the gray, dusty terrain toward the huge dome of Conrad Bubble. Its airlock, ringed with red lights, stood distressingly far away. It’s hard to run with a hundred kilograms of gear on – even in lunar gravity.

NO PEACE, NO PROSPERITY! NO HUNGER GAMES, NO PEACE! It’s the same campaign they used on our square back in District 12, but with slogans geared to the Capitol residents. Seems the Capitol has to convince its own citizens, too.

It's her! Selene! Your Majesty!" Cinder took a step back and felt her serenity slough away, leaving behind the same tension she'd lived with for two long years. That feeling of being in the spotlight, of having responsibilities, of needing to meet expectations... "Why did you abdicate the throne?" someone yelled. And another: "How does it feel to be back on Earth?" And "Will you attend the Commonwealth ball again this year?" And "Is the upcoming Lunar-Earthen wedding a political statement? Do you want to say anything about the union? A loud gunshot blared across the gravel driveway. The journalists screamed and dispersed, some cowering behind the Rampion's landing gear, others rushing back to the safety of their own hovers. "I'll give you a statement," said Scarlet, reloading the shotgun in her arms as she marched toward them. She sent a piercing glare at the journalists who dared to peek out at her. "And the statement is, Leave my guests alone, you pitiful, news-starved vultures." With a frustrated huff, she looked up at Cinder, who had been joined by the others at the top of the ramp. Scarlet looked much the same as Cinder remembered her, only more frenzied. Her eyes had an annoyed, bewildered look to them as she gestured haplessly at the farmland behind her. "Welcome to France. Let's get you inside before they send out the android journalists -they're not as easy to scare off.

My dad says that if you love people and they love you back, and you’re happy for each other when things are good and help each other when things are bad, and you don’t even mind too much when people in-ev-it-a-bly—” she sounded out the word “—try to grind your gears, then it’s family. He says if you’re related to someone and they don’t treat you well, they don’t deserve to be called family, and you can meet someone as a total stranger and they can become the best family.

Imagine all of L.A. filled with windup men wandering empty-headed and waiting for orders and directions and purpose. That’s L.A. in a nutshell. A city of driven creatures, but no one is a hundred percent sure what they’re driven toward. Wealth. Fame. Power. Love. Revenge. These are all the obvious end points for the citizens of a spectral city, but none of them quite encompass a final goal. That’s more fragile. Something that slips away like smoke the moment it’s in your hands. It’s a moonshine cocktail of desperation and desire, the certainty that you can find perfection through sheer willpower and the cold terror that if you do reach the goal it will have twisted into something new. A new fevered need born of the search for this one. Searching for the next goal will breed another. And on and on. L.A. and Kill City full of Pinocchios with whirring gears for brains, all wanting to be real boys but sunk in the certainty that they’ll never become anything because they’re nothing. They came from nothing and are headed for a further and harder nothing.

Then someone knocks on the door, very clearly, four times. I pull away from Lena quickly. "What's that?" I say, dragging my forearm across my eyes, trying to get control of myself. Lena tries to pass it off as though she hadn't heard. Her face has gone white, her eyes wide and terrified. When the knocking starts up again, she doesn't move, just stays frozen where she is. "I thought nobody comes in this way." I cross my arms, watching Lena narrowly. There's a suspicious needling, pricking at some corner of my mind, but I can't quite focus on it. "They don't. I mean—sometimes—I mean, the delivery guys—" As she stammers excuses, the door opens, and he pokes his head in—the boy from the day Lena and I jumped the gate at the lab complex, just after we had our evaluations. His eyes land on me and he, too, freezes. At first I think there must be a mistake. He must have knocked on the wrong door. Lena will yell at him now, tell him to clear off. But then my mind grinds slowly into gear and I realize that no, he has just called Lena's name. This was obviously planned.

He flipped through channels until he found reruns of NCIS. "Understanding murder is simple compared to understanding a woman, Leroy Jethro Gibbs. You been married a bunch of times. What advice would you give me?" He talked to the character on the television. Gibbs said, "Grab your gear.

According to Kensi Gounden, Here are five ways coaches can better meet millennial athletes where they are and help elevate them into better athletes and better people. 1. Give Them Time to Switch Gears 2. Help Them Communicate 3. Follow the 'Commercial Break' Rule 4. Know Their Favorites 5. Admit Your Mistakes

A body, he thought, was like a complex and complicated clock. Each one unique in its parts. Through study, one might discover the tricks of its mechanisms. Through trial and error, one might calibrate one’s touches on the gears and learn to make the clock tick. He drew his knuckles down her nape, along her spine. She shuddered

Entrepreneurs are everywhere. You don’t have to work in a garage to be in a startup. The concept of entrepreneurship includes anyone who works within my definition of a startup: a human institution designed to create new products and services under conditions of extreme uncertainty. That means entrepreneurs are everywhere and the Lean Startup approach can work in any size company, even a very large enterprise, in any sector or industry. 2. Entrepreneurship is management. A startup is an institution, not just a product, and so it requires a new kind of management specifically geared to its context of extreme uncertainty. In fact, as I will argue later, I believe “entrepreneur” should be considered a job title in all modern companies that depend on innovation for their future growth. 3. Validated learning. Startups exist not just to make stuff, make money, or even serve customers. They exist to learn how to build a sustainable business. This learning can be validated scientifically by running frequent experiments that allow entrepreneurs to test each element of their vision. 4. Build-Measure-Learn. The fundamental activity of a startup is to turn ideas into products, measure how customers respond, and then learn whether to pivot or persevere. All successful startup processes should be geared to accelerate that feedback loop. 5. Innovation accounting. To improve entrepreneurial outcomes and hold innovators accountable, we need to focus on the boring stuff: how to measure progress, how to set up milestones, and how to prioritize work. This requires a new kind of accounting designed for startups—and the people who hold them accountable.

Fear so, sir. I’d be back in the fight, had we the gear.” If he were a Gold or Obsidian, he’d be back in the fight by month’s end, but we can’t spend our near-extinguished supply of prosthetics on regular infantry. Bad investment. I once thought the greatest sin of war was violence. It isn’t. The greatest sin is it requires good men to become practical.

when you count backwards, you mentally shift the gears in your mind. You interrupt your default thinking and do what psychologists call “assert control.” The counting distracts you from your excuses and focuses your mind on moving in a new direction. When you physically move instead of stopping to think, your physiology changes and your mind falls in line.

Be proactive, not reactive—don't let someone else define your day in an email or phone call.

People are attracted to confident people, and there is a direct correlation between confidence and respectful curiosity.

A set of four Browning L9A1 automatic pistols complete with attachable silencers was perhaps the most important aspect of their gear for this mission. The weapons were standard issue in the British military, plus a few dozen other countries, and were basically just modified versions of a design that dated back to the 1930s. Old they might have been, but they were tried and true, and hopefully enough to see the group out of trouble if it came down to it

Happiness was attainable for anyone who had enough courage to reach for it. Just because I had to reach further than some only made it that much more appreciated. Today, in this moment, I was wrapping both hands around my happiness, grabbing it tight. Hopper’s

want to give him that security. I want to give him somewhere he absolutely belongs, you know? I want him to have my name. I want to be legally bound to him so if…” I cleared my throat. “If anything ever happens to me, everything I have will go to him without fight.” “And

GROW THE ACTION HABIT Practice these key points: 1. Be an activationist. Be someone who does things. Be a doer, not a don’t-er. 2. Don’t wait until conditions are perfect. They never will be. Expect future obstacles and difficulties and solve them as they arise. 3. Remember, ideas alone won’t bring success. Ideas have value only when you act upon them. 4. Use action to cure fear and gain confidence. Do what you fear, and fear disappears. Just try it and see. 5. Start your mental engine mechanically. Don’t wait for the spirit to move you. Take action, dig in, and you move the spirit. 6. Think in terms of now. Tomorrow, next week, later, and similar words often are synonymous with the failure word, never. Be an “I’m starting right now” kind of person. 7. Get down to business—pronto. Don’t waste time getting ready to act. Start acting instead. 8. Seize the initiative. Be a crusader. Pick up the ball and run. Be a volunteer. Show that you have the ability and ambition to do. Get in gear and go!

Question 2: How Do You Want to Grow? When you watch how young children soak up information, you realize how deeply wired we are to learn and grow. Personal growth can and should happen throughout life, not just when we’re children. In this section, you’re essentially asking yourself: In order to have the experiences above, how do I have to grow? What sort of man or woman do I need to evolve into? Notice how this question ties to the previous one? Now, consider these four categories from the Twelve Areas of Balance: 5.​YOUR HEALTH AND FITNESS. Describe how you want to feel and look every day. What about five, ten, or twenty years from now? What eating and fitness systems would you like to have? What health or fitness systems would you like to explore, not because you think you ought to but because you’re curious and want to? Are there fitness goals you’d like to achieve purely for the thrill of knowing you accomplished them (whether it’s hiking a mountain, learning to tap dance, or getting in a routine of going to the gym)? 6.​YOUR INTELLECTUAL LIFE. What do you need to learn in order to have the experiences you listed above? What would you love to learn? What books and movies would stretch your mind and tastes? What kinds of art, music, or theater would you like to know more about? Are there languages you want to master? Remember to focus on end goals—choosing learning opportunities where the joy is in the learning itself, and the learning is not merely a means to an end, such as a diploma. 7.​YOUR SKILLS. What skills would help you thrive at your job and would you enjoy mastering? If you’d love to switch gears professionally, what skills would it take to do that? What are some skills you want to learn just for fun? What would make you happy and proud to know how to do? If you could go back to school to learn anything you wanted just for the joy of it, what would that be? 8.​YOUR SPIRITUAL LIFE. Where are you now spiritually, and where would you like to be? Would you like to move deeper into the spiritual practice you already have or try out others? What is your highest aspiration for your spiritual practice? Would you like to learn things like lucid dreaming, deep states of meditation, or ways to overcome fear, worry, or stress?

Clingmans Dome in the middle of the park. Then, it’s downhill to Virginia, and people have told me Virginia is a cakewalk. I’ll learn soon enough that “easy” trail beyond the Smoky Mountains is as much a fantasy as my dream lunch with pizza…uh, I mean Juli, but for now I’ve convinced myself all will be well once I get through the Smokies. I leave Tray Mountain Shelter at 1:00 with ten miles to go. I’ve eaten the remainder of my food. I’ve been hiking roughly two miles per hour. Downhill is slower due to my sore knee. I need to get to Hiawassee by 6:00 p.m., the check-in deadline at Blueberry Patch Hostel, where my mail drop is waiting.5 I have little margin, so I decide to push for a while. I down a couple of Advil and “open it up” for the first time this trip. In the next hour I cover 3.5 miles. Another 1.5 miles and I am out of water, since I skipped all the side trails leading to streams. Five miles to go, and I’m running out of steam. Half the strands of muscle in my legs have taken the rest of the day off, leaving the other half to do all the work. My throat is dry. Less than a mile to go, a widening stream parallels the trail. It is nearing 6:00, but I can handle the thirst no longer. There is a five-foot drop down an embankment to the stream. Hurriedly I drop my pack and camera case, which I have clipped over the belt of my pack. The camera starts rolling down the embankment, headed for the stream. I lunge for it and miss. It stops on its own in the nook of a tree root. I have to be more careful. I’m already paranoid about losing or breaking gear. Every time I resume hiking after a rest, I stop a few steps down the trail and look back for anything I may have left behind. There’s nothing in my pack that I don’t need. Finally, I’m

My cold-weather gear left a lot to be desired: black maternity leggings under boot-cut maternity jeans, and a couple of Marlboro Man’s white T-shirts under an extra-large ASU sweatshirt. I was so happy to have something warm to wear that I didn’t even care that I was wearing the letters of my Pac-10 rival. Add Marlboro Man’s old lumberjack cap and mud boots that were four sizes too big and I was on my way to being a complete beauty queen. I seriously didn’t know how Marlboro Man would be able to keep his hands off of me. If I caught a glimpse of myself in the reflection of the feed truck, I’d shiver violently. But really, when it came right down to it, I didn’t care. No matter what I looked like, it just didn’t feel right sending Marlboro Man into the cold, lonely world day after day. Even though I was new at marriage, I still sensed that somehow--whether because of biology or societal conditioning or religious mandate or the position of the moon--it was I who was to be the cushion between Marlboro Man and the cruel, hard world. That it was I who’d needed to dust off his shoulders every day. And though he didn’t say it, I could tell that he felt better when I was bouncing along, chubby and carrying his child, in his feed truck next to him. Occasionally I’d hop out of the pickup and open gates. Other times he’d hop out and open them. Sometimes I’d drive while he threw hay off the back of the vehicles. Sometimes I’d get stuck and he’d say shit. Sometimes we’d just sit in silence, shivering as the vehicle doors opened and closed. Other times we’d engage in serious conversation or stop and make out in the snow. All the while, our gestating baby rested in the warmth of my body, blissfully unaware of all the work that awaited him on this ranch where his dad had grown up. As I accompanied Marlboro Man on those long, frigid mornings of work, I wondered if our child would ever know the fun of sledding on a golf course hill…or any hill, for that matter. I’d lived on the ranch for five months and didn’t remember ever hearing about anyone sledding…or playing golf…or participating in any recreational activities at all. I was just beginning to wrap my mind around the way daily life unfolded here: wake up early, get your work done, eat, relax, and go to bed. Repeat daily. There wasn’t a calendar of events or dinner dates with friends in town or really much room for recreation--because that just meant double the work when you got back to work. It was hard for me not to wonder when any of these people ever went out and had a good time, or built a snowman. Or slept past 5:00 A.M.

Sam was about to travel to Asia with her boyfriend and she was fretting about what her backers would think if she released some of her new songs while she was 'on vacation'. She was worried that posting pictures of herself sipping a Mai Tai was going to make her look like an asshole. What does it matter? I asked her, where you are whether you're drinking a coffee, a Mai Tai or a bottle of water? I mean, aren't they paying for your songs so that you can... live? Doesn't living include wandering and collecting emotions and drinking a Mai Tai, not just sitting in a room writing songs without ever leaving the house? I told Sam about another songwriter friend of mine, Kim Boekbinder, who runs her own direct support website through which her fans pay her monthly at levels from $5 to $1,000. She also has a running online wishlist of musical gear and costumes kindof like a wedding registry, to which her fans can contribute money anytime they want. Kim had told me a few days before that she doesn't mind charging her backers during what she calls her 'staring at the wall time'. She thinks this is essential before she can write a new batch of songs. And her fans don't complain, they trust her process. These are new forms of patronage, there are no rules and it's messy, the artists and the patrons they are making the rules as they go along, but whether these artists are using crowdfunding (which is basically, front me some money so I can make a thing) or subscription services (which is more like pay me some money every month so that I can make things) or Patreon, which is like pay per piece of content pledge service (that basically means pay me some money every time I make a thing). It doesn't matter, the fundamental building block of all of these relationships boils down to the same simple thing: trust. If you're asking your fans to support you, the artist, it shouldn't matter what your choices are, as long as you're delivering your side of the bargain. You may be spending the money on guitar picks, Mai Tais, baby formula, college loans, gas for the car or coffee to fuel your all-night writing sessions. As long as art is coming out the other side, and you're making your patrons happy, the money you need to live (and need to live is hard to define) is almost indistinguishable from the money you need to make art. ... (6:06:57) ... When she posts a photo of herself in a vintage dress that she just bought, no one scolds her for spending money on something other than effects pedals. It's not like her fan's money is an allowance with nosy and critical strings attached, it's a gift in the form of money in exchange for her gift, in the form of music. The relative values are... messy. But if we accept the messiness we're all okay. If Beck needs to moisturize his cuticles with truffle oil in order to play guitar tracks on his crowdfunded record, I don't care that the money I fronted him isn't going towards two turntables or a microphone; just as long as the art gets made, I get the album and Beck doesn't die in the process.

There’s a way of triumphant accomplishment that comes from lowering dead or unwanted trees. (Not to say the joys of yelling, But that feeling fades pretty quickly once you look down and see unsightly—and very stubborn—Stump milling. If you hire a landscaper or arborist to chop down the trees, they typically leave the stumps behind, unless you pay a further fee. Stump-removal prices vary widely across the country and are supported by the diameter of the stump, but it typically costs between $100 and $200 to get rid of a stump that’s 24 inches in diameter or smaller. And that’s a good price if you’ve only got one stump to get rid of . But, if you've got two or more stumps, you'll save a substantial amount of cash by renting a stump grinder. A gas-powered stump grinder rents for about $100 per day, counting on the dimensions of the machine. And if you share the rental expense with one or two stump-plagued neighbors, renting is certainly the more economical thanks to going. you will need a vehicle with a trailer hitch to tow the machine, which weighs about 1,000 pounds. Or, for a nominal fee, most rental dealers will drop off and devour the grinder. To remove the 30-in.-dia. scarlet maple stump, I rented a Vermeer Model SC252 stump grinder. it's a strong 25-hp engine and 16-in.-dia. cutting wheel that's studded with 16 forged-steel teeth. this is often a loud, powerful machine with a classy mechanism , but it's surprisingly simple to work . But, before you crank up the motor and begin grinding away, it’s important to prep the world for the stumpectomy. Start by ensuring all kids and pets are indoors, or if they’re outdoors, keep them well faraway from the world and under constant adult supervision. Then, use a round-point shovel or garden mattock to get rid of any rocks from round the base of the stump [1]. this is often important because if the spinning cutting wheel hits a rock, it can shoot out sort of a missile and cause serious injury. Plus, rocks can dull or damage the teeth on the cutting wheel, which are expensive to exchange. Next, check the peak of the stump. If it’s protruding out of the bottom quite 6 inches approximately, use a sequence saw to trim it as on the brink of the bottom as possible [2]. While this step isn’t absolutely necessary, it'll prevent quite little bit of time because removing 6 inches of the Stump grinding with a chainsaw is far quicker than using the grinder. After donning the acceptable safety gear, start the grinder and drive it to within 3 feet of the stump. Use the hydraulic lever to boost the cutting wheel until it’s a couple of inches above the stump. Slowly drive the machine forward to position the wheel directly over the stump's front edge [3]. Engage the facility lever to start out the wheel spinning, then slowly lower it about 3 in. in to the stump grinding. Next, use the hydraulic lever to slowly swing the wheel from side to side to filter out all the wood within the cutting range. Then, raise the wheel, advance the machine forward a couple of inches, and repeat the method. While operating the machine, always stand at the instrument panel, which is found near the rear of the machine and well faraway from the cutting wheel. Little by little, continue grinding and advancing your way through to the opposite side of the stump. Raise the cutting wheel, shift into reverse, and return to the starting spot. Repeat the grinding process until the surface of the Stump removal is a minimum of 4 in. below the extent of the encompassing ground. At now, you'll drive the grinder off to at least one side, far away from the excavated hole. Now, discover all the wood chips and fill the crater with screened topsoil [4]. (The wood chips are often used as mulch in flowerbeds and around trees and shrubs.) Lightly rake the soil, opened up a good layer of grass seed, then rake the seeds into the soil [5]. Water the world and canopy the seeds with mulch hay.

Awesome. Then it’s my turn to ask you a question. He paused, like he was gearing up for something incredibly important. How’d Dizznee react to your new rings? Sophie shook her head, refusing to dignify the question with a response. You can ignore it all you want, Foster, but sooner or later you’re going to have to solve the triangle. Or should we get real and call it a square? I have no idea what you mean. I’m pretty sure you do. I bet if I were there I could feel your mood shifting. Right, because I’m trying to figure out if it’s possible to strangle you with my thoughts! There you go, rocking the whole adorable-when-you’re-angry thing. I think that’s what I’ve missed about you the most. She

Hairless dolls! Now that is the kind of commemorative gear that you should sell at the palace gift shop,” Liam had remarked.)

Set a timer – Set a timer to give yourself 5-10 minutes to think through a problem. Then when your timer pings, switch gears.

What if I'm leading you out into the woods to kill you and dump your body?" "Morbid," I mocked, "And I have to say if that's the plan then you're fucked because your getaway plane just took off without you." He chuckled and I sighed. "Guess it would be a good way to go then—at the hand of a man I love more than life itself." There was a beat of immeasurable silence. "Killing you would be like killing myself.

Guilt. An emotion that seemed to be the bane of my existence, my cross to bear. Everyone had one, didn't they? Everyone probably hated theirs. I did mine. Of course, that made me feel guilty too.

Anywhere with you, with any conversation, even the darkest kind, is exactly where I will always want to be.

Guilt. An emotion that seemed to be the bane of my existence. My cross to bear. Everyone had one, didn’t they? Everyone probably hated theirs. I did mine. ‘Course, that made me feel guilty, too.

What if I’m leading you out into the woods to kill you and dump your body?” “Morbid,” I mocked. “And I have to say if that’s the plan, then you’re fucked because your getaway plane just took off without you.” He chuckled, and I sighed. “Guess it would be a good way to go, then, at the hand of a man I love more than life itself.” There was a beat of immeasurable silence. “Killing you would be like killing myself.

The cowboy in the middle has nothing to do. No responsibility, except to avoid the odd scrotal meeting with the gear shift.

How is anyone supposed to buy fishing gear from me when I look all bruised?”“Tell them you got into a fight with a shark?” I supply helpfully.

I—” I start to talk and then . . . stop. Switching gears, I blurt, “I think I want to become a fireman.

I’ll give it my best. I will not be a liability, but I won’t be cannon fodder either. Don’t make me tell you all to fuck off. I don’t like saying ‘fuck off,’ much less actually meaning that you can fuck off, but if fuck off you must, then fuck off you will. I consider you all to be my friends, of which I don’t have very many. Don’t make me tell you to fuck off. It would hurt me more than you fuck-offs.” Rivka’s mouth fell open. Red stared. Lindy smiled. Jay and Floyd giggled. Lindy was the first to speak. “You fit right in, Doc. Dump your gear, and we’ll set you up with body armor.” “Chaz,” Rivka started, “take us out, please. Destination is Elgar 7.” “Body armor?” Tyler asked. “Body armor,” Red confirmed.

As the 2019 elections were approaching, the Modi government felt the need to appear less pro-rich and more pro-poor again. But the union budget passed in February was somewhat a missed opportunity so far as the peasants were concerned. No loan waivers were announced in their favor, simply an enhanced interest subvention on loans and an annual income support of Rs 6,000 (80 USD)—6 percent of a small farmer’s yearly income—to all farmers’ households owning two hectares or fewer.131 In fact, the union budget was once again more geared to pleasing the middle class. The income tax exemption limit jumped from Rs 200,000 (2,667 USD) to 250,000 (3,333 USD), and the income tax rate up to Rs 5 lakh (6,667 USD) was reduced from 10 to 5 percent. The income tax on an income of Rs 10 lakh (13,333 USD) dropped from Rs 110,210 (1,470 USD) to Rs 75,000 (1,000 USD).132 The poor were doubly affected by the fiscal policy of the Modi government in 2014–2019: not only did the tax cuts in favor of the middle class, the abolition of the wealth tax, and, more importantly, the reduction of the corporate tax rates have to be offset by increased indirect taxes, but the stagnation of fiscal resources did not allow the government of India to spend more on public education and public health—all the more so as Narendra Modi wanted to reduce the fiscal deficit. First of all, tax collection diminished. The exchequer “lost” Rs 1.45 lakh crore (1.933 billion USD) in the reduction of the corporate tax, for instance. That was the main reason why gross direct tax collection dipped 4.92 percent133 in 2019–2020, a fiscal year during which gross tax collections were less than those in 2018–2019. Tax collections had never declined on a year-on-year basis since 1961–1962.134 Second, government expenditures diminished. The central government reduced its spending on education from 0.63 percent of GDP in 2013–2014 to 0.47 percent in 2017–2018. The trend was marginally better on the public health front, where the Center’s spending declined from 0.37 percent of GDP in 2013–2014 to 0.34 percent in 2015–2016, before rising again to reach 0.38 percent in 2016–2017.

we only see clearly when we live inside the tears of other people.

The second we’re inside, Levi reaches for his preferred weapons while I dress in my combat gear and strap sheaths to every available spot on my body, looking like some kind of unholy assassin from a fantasy book who’s about to throw herself on the back of a dragon and command the fucking skies to destroy her enemies. Only in this story, the only vile creatures who’ll be destroyed are the Dragonis.

I wish I could enjoy things as easily as everyone else seems to.” Bo glances over at me, her dark eyes glinting beneath her thick lashes. “Sometimes I think they’re just pretending to have fun. And other times I think it really is that simple for the rest of the world. They’re a bunch of clocks that run right, and I’m just missing a gear somewhere . . .

Of course these days, when class can be cloned as easy as sheep, anyone could buy the gear and walk the walk and talk the talk. But there’s always a pea under the mattress, and to Joe’s keen eye, where real kiss-my-ass class showed through was in the way your born-to-its sat easy. Folk like him either slumped or, at best, lolled. Somewhere toward the top of the heap you learned the art of reclining gracefully.

The Northern Pump Company hydraulic gear for our 5" fuze-setting shell hoists was found on the burn during some practice firings on the way out. No drawings available, of course. Local repair forces all stumped. Man being flown out from the states—Mr. W. Cody, of the N. P. Co.

In a hilly, long-course race, your focus must be on “smoothing” the course. The power on uphills must be restricted by gearing down and keeping your power output below your functional threshold power (FTP) (or even lower on longer climbs). The typical newcomer to Ironman-distance racing pushes far too hard on hills, especially early in the race, and pays the price later as high fatigue sets in. •  For short climbs of up to 5 min. duration, athletes should consider an effort ceiling of 90–100 percent of FTP. •  For longer climbs, consider an effort ceiling of 80–90 percent of FTP. •  For all climbs, it is very important to “save some watts” for cresting the apex of the climb. Novices tend to have their highest watts at the base of a climb. The intelligent athlete will have his or her highest watts over the top of a climb and accelerate down the backside. Experienced power users know that higher lactate levels can be cleared during the descent and after the rider has returned to cruising speed. •  On the downhill side, stop pedaling and coast in the aero position when your pedaling cadence becomes so high that you begin to breathe more heavily. If in doubt, coast the downhills so long as your speed is well above your average for the race.

could say it over and over how much I loved him. How profoundly he changed my life. I could cover all my skin with tattoos representing something about him I truly loved, but there still wouldn’t be enough room. I couldn’t possibly explain to Hopper just how much my entire universe revolved around him because there wasn’t an equation that existed big enough to compute the sum. “You

No, I wasn’t. But I saw the video of what happened between Tripp and that girl.” Tripp’s friend does a double-take. “That’s right. Video. What I saw and heard was clear, and it was completely unacceptable. Not just for anyone who wants to be on my team, but anybody. Any male. Any human being. You’re on my team, I expect you to get your ass in gear when you see something like that and stop it. Not sit back and watch it or laugh about it or go online and spew a bunch of shit about the girl. Be a man. Do the right thing. Stuff like this makes us all look bad and makes women fear us all. You want a female to like you, so that maybe she’ll be your girlfriend? It won’t happen if she’s afraid of you.” Coach says he considered canceling our entire basketball season, which brings gasps from the team, but he’s decided to give us one more chance. We’ll forfeit our first three home games. If he finds out about anybody doing anything else like this, he’s off the team. No more chances. No one who treats girls this way will play for him.

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My name might be Arrow, but it was Hopp who’d pierced my heart like one. I

We live in a society in which mediocrity is the norm. Many people do as little as they can to get by. They don’t take pride in their work or in who they are. If somebody is watching, they may perform one way, but when nobody is watching they’ll cut corners and take the easy way out. If you are not careful, you can be pulled into this same mentality where you think it’s okay to show up late to work, to look less than your best, or to give less than your best. But God doesn’t bless mediocrity. God blesses excellence. I have observed that the fifth undeniable quality of a winner is a commitment to excellence. When you have a spirit of excellence, you do your best whether anyone is watching or not. You go the extra mile. You do more than you have to. Other people may complain about their jobs. They may go around looking sloppy and cutting corners. Don’t sink to that level. Everyone else may be slacking off at work, compromising in school, letting their lawns go, but here’s the key: You are not everyone else. You are a cut above. You are called to excellence. God wants you to set the highest standard. You should be the model employee for your company. Your boss and your supervisors should be able to say to the new hires, “Watch him. Learn from her. Pick up the same habits. Develop the same skills. This person is the cream of the crop, always on time, great attitude, doing more than what is required.” When you have an excellent spirit like that, you will not only see promotion and increase, but you are honoring God. Some people think, “Let me go to church to honor God. Let me read my Bible to honor God.” And yes, that’s true, but it honors God just as much to get to work on time. It honors God to be productive. It honors God to look good each day. When you are excellent, your life gives praise to God. That’s one of the best witnesses you can have. Some people will never go to church. They never listen to a sermon. They’re not reading the Bible. Instead, they’re reading your life. They’re watching how you live. Now, don’t be sloppy. When you leave the house, whether you’re wearing shorts or a three-piece suit, make sure you look the best you possibly can. You’re representing the almighty God. When you go to work, don’t slack off, and don’t give a halfhearted effort. Give it your all. Do your job to the best of your ability. You should be so full of excellence that other people want what you have. When you’re a person of excellence, you do more than necessary. You don’t just meet the minimum requirements; you go the extra mile. That phrase comes from the Bible. Jesus said it in Matthew 5:41--“If a soldier demands you carry his gear one mile, carry it two miles.” In those days Roman soldiers were permitted by law to require someone else to carry their armor.

And here I stood, a know-nothing mage with witch tendencies, standing on my own, facing off against two columns of power and a pair of dual-mages in sports gear. While being watched by an immensely powerful supernatural of unknown origins.

Warning signs went unheeded as the ferocious kisses continued, kicking Trevor’s need into high gear. But the unfamiliar prickle of Edgard’s beard on his cheek began to rouse him from that dark desire. Coupled with the low-pitched masculine moans—not Chassie’s feminine sighs—and Trevor broke away, knocking Edgard’s hands free. “Stop. No.” “Yes,” Edgard grabbed Trevor’s shirt. “This is why I’m here. Because it’s still there, Trevor. This need didn’t go away just because I did.” “It don’t matter.” “It should. God. Please let it matter.” “Ed—” “Don’t. Just…don’t.” Edgard gently rested his forehead against Trevor’s and retreated into silence. The heat of their bodies, the cold air, the confusion, the passion, the anger, the guilt, all swirled in Trevor’s head until he didn’t know which way was up. Unable to squirm either closer or away, damn near unable to breathe, Trevor squeezed his eyes shut and gave in, leaning against Edgard, just for a moment. Finally he dredged up a semblance of sanity. “I love her, Ed. I’m not with her because she was my second choice.” “I know. Why do you think it hurts me so bad, meu amore?” My love. That single, familiar endearment could prove to be his undoing. Another pause lingered before Trevor said, “I can’t do this. I swear to f**king God I cannot do this again.” “We’ll figure something out this time.” “No.” “Look at me.” Trevor shook his head. “Goddammit. Look. At. Me.” Heart thumping crazily, Trevor pulled back and caught the golden gaze that’d haunted his dreams since the day they’d gone from friends to something more. Edgard curled one hand around Trevor’s face, keeping the other fisted in his shirt. “Tell me how to fix this.” “We can’t and talkin’ about it ain’t gonna change nothin’.” “We were always better at f**king away our problems rather than talking them out, eh?” No hint of a smile graced either of their faces.

He’d been all geared up for a night alone with Lila, fulfilling her fantasies before he popped the question when she was too sated to say no. He hoped.

What do you—” Hadrian shook his head. “You knew? I can’t believe you didn’t say anything. You just let her take our horses and all our gear?” “What part of ‘you need to learn a lesson’ didn’t you understand?” “You’re insane, do you know that?” “Yeah, well you’re not the first to bring it up.

Tech looked closer, noticing God standing there with Day and… oh… Hart. Tech told Steele, Ruxs, and Green to go ahead. They looked confused but didn’t question him. When they were out of earshot, Tech stood there alone with Free since most everyone was crowding around the star in the room. “That’s SWAT Captain Hart and his lieutenant, Roberts. I know he looks intimidating from here, especially in his gear, but he’s really a great guy. God and Day use his assistance when we have a big bust. There’s no reason to be nervous. He’s extremely sweet and surprisingly gentle. There are female officers who actually prefer to train with only him,” Tech said, rubbing Free’s arm. “I’m sorry. I’m acting insane. I know we’re in a room full of cops, but you understand, right?” “I know your dad was an asshole cop who abused his authority, but you won’t find that around God or Day.” Tech looked into Free’s eyes. “I wouldn’t’ve called you here if I wasn’t hundred percent sure you’d be safe. You’ve commented about my job before, how special it is. Well, here’s your chance to have that. You can do my job even better than me, but we won’t broadcast that.” Tech gave Free another sad smile. “Don’t let your dad continue to control your life. You’ve beaten him already, it’s time you moved forward, Free.” Free closed his eyes and took a long breath and turned to head towards their department with his back straight and his eyes focused. Tech was proud of him already. He’d come a long way. Tech

How did you meet him?” He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Promise you won’t think me an utter nerd?” She quirked an eyebrow. “Well, no hope of that, honestly,” he admitted. “I was playing World of Warcraft online in London and met Fezza on a quest. We just hit it off.” “He helped you?” “God, no. He killed me and stole all my gear,” he said, surprising her, laughter bubbling to the surface. “Later on, I told him off and he felt a bit sorry, so he offered to let me join him on a mission in order to gain new, better gear, since apparently mine was crap. We wound up playing a lot, and then comparing other games, and emailing.

Stay on Course Let your eyes look right on [with fixed purpose], and let your gaze be straight before you. Consider well the path of your feet, and let all your ways be established and ordered aright. Turn not aside to the right hand or to the left; remove your foot from evil. PROVERBS 4:25- 27 Jesus knew what His purpose was. He disciplined Himself to stay on course, living His life to fulfill that purpose for which He came. As Christians, we need to follow in His steps and focus on our purpose. We were bought with a price to live our lives in such a way that we become the salt of the earth, the light of the world (see Matthew 5). We are to lay down our selfish, self-centered lifestyles, and gear our lives toward doing something for the betterment of someone else. Then we will experience that “joy unspeakable, and full of glory” (1 Peter 1:8).

The system is a drill, or set of steps, that is accomplished in sequence when approaching any hazard: 1. Select course 2. Look behind, signal, adjust speed 3. Change gear 4. Look behind again and signal again 5. Use your horn 6. Look behind again 7. Maneuver and accelerate

Journal Entry – April 17, 2013/May 10, 2013 Hollow. Numb. Empty. Nothingness. Are these feelings? Or are they just words in the English language? I ask these questions, because these words best describe how I feel right now as I sit here in my hospital room. The waiting game. My mind and thoughts swishing around my head, and my eyes burn feeling as if I am going to cry at any moment. Breakfast has come and gone. Vitals have been taken. And the five to ten minute check in with my assigned morning nurse has occurred. It has been three hours since I woke up, and I have twelve to thirteen hours to survive before I can go to sleep for the night. My day will be made up of one education group, lunch, dinner, and the remainder of the day and evening doing nothing but laying on the bed curled up in a ball depressed waiting for the time to pass looking at the clock hanging on the wall periodically wishing the time would move faster… on the flip side…a few days later…Writing in an attempt to keep my mind and head out of the skies. My heart feels as though it will beat outside of my chest, and my brain is on its own axis within my skull. I feel like I am on top of the world. I feel like I could do anything. I feel like I could write forever. I feel like my mind is on the spin cycle of a washing machine. Or, like I am hooked onto a pair of windshield wipers stuck on a speed mode. Although, my brain has spun faster than this and I feel that the meds are keeping the jerks at bay, I still feel that all too familiar whirling feeling. It is indescribable. It is hard to pinpoint. Some of it must be anxiety. Some of it must be that I am locked up like a caged animal ready to pounce. Then again, some of it must be nature. My brain misfiring and backfiring and causing itself to spin in every which direction at all sorts of speeds none of which are consistent or in the same direction. Inconsistency. Slow, fast, in between. A complete blur. I have trouble tracking. I have trouble focusing. I have trouble remembering…My mind is obsessing. I try to stop my mind from racing. I try to stop my eyes from darting across the page. I try to stop my legs from jittering. To no avail. It all starts again. My internal engine drives the show. It is as if I have a compulsion to move and dart and jerk. It is uncomfortable. My thoughts are scattered. My thoughts do not make sense. I find I have to edit my own thoughts or at least dig through the mess. I must navigate the thoughts to find the ones that fit together all in time before the memory loses focus and the tracking loses hold and “poof” the statement or thought is gone forever. Frustrating. I am intelligent. I feel stupid. My mind is in 5th gear and climbing at an unprecedented rate of speed. It is magical and amazing, but terrifying and exhausting. How to remain “normal” – is it possible? Is there a possibility of the insanity to stop? Is it possible for the cycle of speed to come to an end? I like the productivity, but the wreckage is too much to take. I just want a break. I want to be normal. I don’t want to be manic.

The life of the disconnected person is frustrating for both the individual as well as those around them.

If you want to connect more effectively with others, then watch your language.

it is not about how open the door is, but rather how present the person inside that office is or isn

Deborah called the dispatcher and said, “I’ve got the Aldovar girl. I’m taking her home,” and Samantha muttered, “Big whoopee-shit.” Deborah just glanced at her with something that looked like a rictus but was probably supposed to be a reassuring smile, and then she put the car in gear, and I had a little over half an hour to sit in the backseat and picture my life splintering into a million decorative shards.

Avoidance is a tactic of those who are either insecure and don't know how to communicate or arrogant and believe they are too important for “small talk.

Being present is an art form. People can actually learn how to connect well.

When a person's agenda is the driving force of their life, then they are going to run over people most of the time unless they learn to use their brakes and downshift.

If you start off a relationship in a negative position it is always hard to get to a strong positive impression.

Our lack of being present is often about us tuning others out because what they are saying isn't interesting, which in itself is filled with pride and arrogance. We rarely tune out interesting conversation. We normally listen to things that are compelling. The key is being respectful even when we couldn't care less and the content is less than interesting.

if in your busyness you treat people as if they are not as important as your work, then you lose respect over time and gain a reputation for being unapproachable.

To socially connect with others, learn to be interested before being interesting.

To socially connect with others is to learn how to be present and to be curious about what they are interested in and what they like to do.

Pamela shook her head as she swiveled the computer screen so Noah could see the grainy black-and-white video of a group of men in SWAT gear approaching a box. Soon there was a bomb-bot poking the thing, and finally a new man in protective gear picked it up. “Harley is being stalked by someone her

Age: 11 Height: 5’3 Favourite animal: Tawny owl   Sometimes considered a smarty-pants by her friends and enemies, Beatrix has always adored studying hard. Being in school reminds her how many interesting things she could learn about the world, everything from how volcanoes are made to the languages of people in hundreds of countries, to the way the planets and stars occupy deep space all across the universe. She has a brain that is geared towards asking important questions and then trying to answer them, which makes her perfect for the Cluefinders Club.   Beatrix loves to read, especially the works of Arthur Conan Doyle, who wrote about the great detective Sherlock Holmes, and the romantic fiction of Charlotte Bronte. Although she is a very pretty girl, she does not listen to any compliments. She likes to think that beauty is only skin-deep, and that people would be better to compliment her intelligence or determination. So far, only her best friends and her teacher, Mister Faraday, have thought to do this. Her favourite animal is the owl, especially the tawny owl, which is often portrayed as being a wise and knowledgeable bird.

What’s more, when Grant plotted total revenue over the three months against employees’ scores on the 1-to-7 scale, he found a distinct, and revealing, pattern. Indeed, revenue peaked between 4 and 4.5—and fell off as the personality moved toward either the introvert or extravert pole. Those highest in extraversion fared scarcely better than those highest in introversion, but both lagged behind their coworkers in the modulated middle.31 “These findings call into question the longstanding belief that the most productive salespeople are extraverted,” Grant writes.32 Instead, being too extraverted can actually impair performance, as other research has begun to confirm. For example, two recent Harvard Business Review studies of sales professionals found that top performers are less gregarious than below-average ones and that the most sociable salespeople are often the poorest performers of all.33 According to a large study of European and American customers, the “most destructive” behavior of salespeople wasn’t being ill-informed. It was an excess of assertiveness and zeal that led to contacting customers too frequently.34 Extraverts, in other words, often stumble over themselves. They can talk too much and listen too little, which dulls their understanding of others’ perspectives. They can fail to strike the proper balance between asserting and holding back, which can be read as pushy and drive people away.* The answer, though, isn’t to lurch to the opposite side of the spectrum. Introverts have their own, often reverse, challenges. They can be too shy to initiate and too timid to close. The best approach is for the people on the ends to emulate those in the center. As some have noted, introverts are “geared to inspect,” while extraverts are “geared to respond.”35 Selling of any sort—whether traditional sales or non-sales selling—requires a delicate balance of inspecting and responding. Ambiverts can find that balance. They know when to speak up and when to shut up. Their wider repertoires allow them to achieve harmony with a broader range of people and a more varied set of circumstances. Ambiverts are the best movers because they’re the most skilled attuners. For most of you, this should be welcome news. Look again at the shape of the curve in that second chart. That’s pretty much what the distribution of introverts and extraverts looks like in the wider population.36 A few of us are extraverts. A few of us are introverts. But most of us are ambiverts, sitting near the middle, not the edges, happily attuned to those around us. In some sense, we are born to sell.

Night One Introduction   Stampy Cat is an adventurous young fellow who loves having fun. One day, when Stampy is thinking of what to do, he starts having a random craving. He wants pizza!   Lee, Squid, and all of Stampy’s other friends have been talking about a new pizza restaurant called Freddy’s.   Stampy’s hunger leads him to go to Freddy’s, but something seems a little strange… Being the inquisitive guy he is, Stampy decides to investigate.   He applies for a job at Freddy’s so he can do some detective work of his own.   To make this mission even more fun, Stampy invites Lee and Amy to join him.   The gang sure is in for a lot of adventure…   Night One     Stampy was ready to become a security guard and he had his pals Lee and Squid ready to go as well.     The boys got all their gear ready. Stampy grabbed a shiny diamond sword. Lee grabbed his favorite pickaxe. And Squid grabbed a bucket.  

realize how much effort it took for human beings to impose their will on the world now that the gears had stopped turning. Nature, the other hand, was equally (if not more) determined to have her way.

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Crystal and her friend had taken root behind Aidrian with Erin and Mandy behind Tristan. They looked like they were facing off in a hockey match. The only thing missing was the puck, hockey sticks, the ref, and all the other hockey gear. Never mind. My

The 5 Elements of Effective Thinking (Edward B. Burger;Michael Starbird) - Your Highlight on page 17 | location 251-270 | Added on Monday, 6 April 2015 03:03:56 Understand simple things deeply The most fundamental ideas in any subject can be understood with ever-increasing depth. Professional tennis players watch the ball; mathematicians understand a nuanced notion of number; successful students continue to improve their mastery of the concepts from previous chapters and courses as they move toward the more advanced material on the horizon; successful people regularly focus on the core purpose of their profession or life. True experts continually deepen their mastery of the basics. Trumpeting understanding through a note-worthy lesson. Tony Plog is an internationally acclaimed trumpet virtuoso, composer, and teacher. A few years ago we had the opportunity to observe him conducting a master class for accomplished soloists. During the class, each student played a portion of his or her selected virtuosic piece. They played wonderfully. Tony listened politely and always started his comments, “Very good, very good. That is a challenging piece, isn’t it?” As expected, he proceeded to give the students advice about how the piece could be played more beautifully, offering suggestions about physical technique and musicality. No surprise. But then he shifted gears. He asked the students to play a very easy warm-up exercise that any beginning trumpet player might be given. They played the handful of simple notes, which sounded childish compared to the dramatically fast, high notes from the earlier, more sophisticated pieces. After they played the simple phrase, Tony, for the first time during the lesson, picked up the trumpet. He played that same phrase, but when he played it, it was not childish. It was exquisite. Each note was a rich, delightful sound. He gave the small phrase a delicate shape, revealing a flowing sense of dynamics that enabled us to hear meaning in those simple notes. The students’ attempts did not come close—the contrast was astounding. The fundamental difference between the true master and the talented students clearly occurred at a far more basic level than in the intricacies of complex pieces. Tony explained that mastering an efficient, nuanced performance of simple pieces allows one to play spectacularly difficult pieces with greater control and artistry. The lesson was simple. The master teacher suggested that the advanced students focus more of their time on practicing simple pieces intensely—learning to perform them with technical efficiency and beautiful elegance. Deep work on simple, basic ideas helps to build true virtuosity—not just in music but in everything. ==========

Learning to be present is an art and a science. If you do it well it will dramatically affect those around you.

When our intent is pure we will use the power to empower, not overpower.

most moderate stress is self-induced, with most of it happening primarily because of a lack of self-awareness or a lack of being present

When you can begin to live your life learning to support others based on who you are and who they are, then you have begun to master what it means to be a leader, and your influence will begin to soar.