Gears Of War 2 Quotes

That’s the problem with indoctrination—the whole point of the First Order’s kind of education is to stop someone from thinking and instead kick their emotions into gear. Make them hate everything else so they’ll cling to what you give them. It’s hard to think for yourself when fear and anger are driving the shuttle.

Hope was evil. It seduced you, then it dropped you on your ass so hard and so fast that you were worse off than when you started.

But all was fair in love and war. If I had to fight dirty to keep him, then I’d be the dirtiest motherfucker there ever was. “So what’s it going to be, Trent?” I pressed. “Are you going to protect my heart and the love it holds for you, or are you going to walk away?

At the center of all that gear was the opening DJ, R2-D2, hard at work, using his various robotic arms to work the turntables. I recognized the tune he was playing: the ’88 remix of New Order’s “Blue Monday,” with a lot of Star Wars droid sound samples mixed in.

Caroline leaned forward. “Now explain to me why this is perfectly normal and dressing up in Regency gear is not.” He blinked. “Finley, because the Civil War is history.” “So is Regency England.” She laughed, eyes bright. “Just because we’re not firing cannons or riding horses doesn’t mean it won’t be fun.

Owen, we've got to talk," Mosh said as he painfully ground the bus into a higher gear. He turned and looked at me. "Okay, what the hell were those things? What are you doing playing commando? You're an accountant! And these weirdos keep bowing and calling me War Chief." He waved his hand at the orcs. All three bowed simultaneously. "See? See!

The world recoiled in horror in 2012 when 20 Connecticut schoolchildren and six adults were killed at Sandy Hook Elementary School. . . . The weapon was a Bushmaster AR-15 semiautomatic rifle adapted from its original role as a battlefield weapon. The AR-15, which is designed to inflict maximum casualties with rapid bursts, should never have been available for purchase by civilians (emphasis added).1 —New York Times editorial, March 4, 2016 Assault weapons were banned for 10 years until Congress, in bipartisan obeisance to the gun lobby, let the law lapse in 2004. As a result, gun manufacturers have been allowed to sell all manner of war weaponry to civilians, including the super destructive .50-caliber sniper rifle. . . .(emphasis added)2 —New York Times editorial, December 11, 2015 [James Holmes the Aurora, Colorado Batman Movie Theater Shooter] also bought bulletproof vests and other tactical gear” (emphasis added).3 —New York Times, July 22, 2012 It is hard to debate guns if you don’t know much about the subject. But it is probably not too surprising that gun control advocates who live in New York City know very little about guns. Semi-automatic guns don’t fire “rapid bursts” of bullets. The New York Times might be fearful of .50-caliber sniper rifles, but these bolt-action .50-caliber rifles were never covered by the federal assault weapons ban. “Urban assault vests” may sound like they are bulletproof, but they are made of nylon. These are just a few of the many errors that the New York Times made.4 If it really believes that it has a strong case, it wouldn’t feel the need to constantly hype its claims. What distinguishes the New York Times is that it doesn’t bother running corrections for these errors.

against the velvet rope force fields that kept everyone without an invitation at bay. As I walked toward the entrance, the crowd bombarded me with a mix of insults, autograph requests, death threats, and tearful declarations of undying love. I had my body shield activated, but surprisingly, no one took a shot at me. I flashed the cyborg doorman my invitation, then mounted the long crystal staircase leading up into the club. Entering the Distracted Globe was more than a little disorienting. The inside of the giant sphere was completely hollow, and its curved interior surface served as the club’s bar and lounge area. The moment you passed through the entrance, the laws of gravity changed. No matter where you walked, your avatar’s feet always adhered to the interior of the sphere, so you could walk in a straight line, up to the “top” of the club, then back down the other side, ending up right back where you started. The huge open space in the center of the sphere served as the club’s zero-gravity “dance floor.” You reached it simply by jumping off the ground, like Superman taking flight, and then swimming through the air, into the spherical zero-g “groove zone.” As I stepped through the entrance, I glanced up—or in the direction that was currently “up” to me at the moment—and took a long look around. The place was packed. Hundreds of avatars milled around like ants crawling around the inside of a giant balloon. Others were already out on the dance floor—spinning, flying, twisting, and tumbling in time with the music, which thumped out of floating spherical speakers that drifted throughout the club. In the middle of all the dancers, a large clear bubble was suspended in space, at the absolute center of the club. This was the “booth” where the DJ stood, surrounded by turntables, mixers, decks, and dials. At the center of all that gear was the opening DJ, R2-D2, hard at work, using his various robotic arms to work the turntables. I recognized the tune he was playing: the ’88 remix of New Order’s “Blue Monday,” with a lot of Star Wars droid sound samples mixed in. As I made my way to the nearest bar, the avatars I passed all stopped to stare and point in

The Arsenal,” said Mal, “is a place for people to live and work who would be … inconvenient on land. Imagine a security concern that supplies heavily armed and unsettling persons to guard ships along the southern Kathic coast from, well.” She grinned. “Pirates. Where should those heavily armed and unsettling people live between assignments? I defy you to find a port eager to welcome forty armed mercs plus gear. Better to find a place far from shorebound gods and Craft and cops where you could stash those mercs when they’re not in use, like action figures in a box.

And after all that,” Tisaanah said, “you expect us to go take the Capital, and give you your stolen throne.” I could practically see the gears turning in her head. “I object to that description,” Zeryth said, brushing the crown on his brow. It seemed to sit oddly on his head, like he wasn’t fully comfortable wearing it. “But yes. Of course we are to put down the rebels challenging the rightful line of succession.” “Rebels?” Nura snorted. “You make it sound like we’re talking about a bunch of ragged militiamen. Atrick Aviness has one of the best armies in Ara, perhaps even the world. And I see at least five other old-blood houses on that map of yours.” She was right. Some of the oldest, most powerful districts in Ara were among those marked in red. It was no surprise to me that these would be the families to object most strongly to Zeryth’s reign. For some, the loss of a royal bloodline meant the loss of their own claim to power. But even beyond that, many would oppose on principle alone. Zeryth had gained great power within the Orders, yes, but he had come from nothing. For Aran nobility, a throne held by a nameless bastard would be seen as a threat to their very way of life.