Highest Bidder Quotes

Few men have virtue to withstand the highest bidder.

Money can buy the necessary police order. Justice is sold to the highest bidder

He sells his loyalties to the highest bidder. Shouldn’t even a mercenary have morals? That’s the textbook definition of a whore!

Rhiannon readied her speech. The speech she’d given more than once over the years to Éibhear and, when they were much younger, to her older sons. The one that included things like: “I’m sure your father didn’t mean that.” “Of course your father loves you.” “No. He didn’t try to sell your egg to the highest human bidder.” “And of course, he never tried to kill you while you slept!

Who would want to enter the soiled Temple of Justice, wherein lies the corpse of justice, slain by her very guardians? And now her killers make mock of the sacred process, selling replicas of her blind virtue to the highest bidder.

-----If you walk like a fascist, talk like a fascist, think the rules do not apply to you; if you seek to destroy the democratic institutions of your nation, solely to serve your own personal ends; if you foment racism, violence, xenophobia, homophobia, misogyny and racial intolerance; if you constantly lie to the people of your country; if you seek to destroy the credibility of news organizations to inoculate yourself against them reporting to the nation about your crimes; if you knowingly collude with foreign powers to undermine your country’s electoral process; if you sell public policy, domestic and foreign, to the highest bidder…you just might be a fascist.

Hide yourself under a bushel quickly, for if your real usefulness were known to the world you would soon be knocked down to the highest bidder by the public auctioneer.

how I despise neutrality, only countries should be neutral since they’re abstract entities, people cannot be neutral, a friend of mine cannot caress my hand and kiss my enemy, laugh when they mock me, this is my true belief, maybe I’m wrong, neutral people are the most dangerous, they sell themselves to the highest bidder, betray us for a plate of lentils

Please. I was held captive in a damn cell with massive masked men who wanted to eat me alive for seven days and then sell me to the highest bidder. A girl with no emotion and nothing to lose can be a very dangerous weapon up against girls who care entirely too much about what shoes match what outfit.

[you’ll acquire] A certain amount of cynicism. This business works on you. When you were in law school you had some noble idea what a lawyer should be. A champion of individual rights; a defender of the Constitution; a guardian of the oppressed; an advocate for your client’s principles. Then after you practice for six months you realize you were nothing but hired guns. Mouthpieces for sale to the highest bidder, available to anybody, any crook, any sleazebag with enough money to pay your outrageous fees. Nothing shocks you. It’s supposed to be an honorable profession, but you’ll meet so many crooked lawyers you’ll want to quit and find an honest job. Yeah Mitch, you’ll get cynical. And it’s sad, really.

You and I will meet over the next however many days it takes, and I will tell you absolutely everything. And then our relationship will be over, and you will be free--or perhaps I should say bound--to write it into a book and sell it to the highest bidder. And I do mean highest. I insist that you be ruthless in your negotiating, Monique. Make them pay you what they would pay a white man. And then, once you've done that, every penny from it will be yours.

And you practically raped that biker guy, which, by the way, what the fuck was that about? Scraping the bottom of the barrel there, Charles.” “And that barrel is hot.” I looked down at Artemis. “And Donovan’s genuine. He would sell me to the highest bidder for a carburetor, and we both know it.

[T]he social relationship of young women to young men … now seemed to Kitty like ignominious exposure of merchandise to be taken by the highest bidder.

She walks. She talks. She adapts. She has been conditioned to respond to the highest bidder.

.. after all a photographer is a kind of spy bought by the highest bidder, a parasite who lives off war without fighting it…

How the hell am I supposed to respect someone who sold herself to the highest bidder?" he growled with tight control, and she gasped, stung. "I have no respect for you, Theresa, not even as the potential mother of my child, because, quite frankly, you can't even do that right.

Writing of only one small part of the broader problem, namely the single-minded pursuit of individualistic 'rights,' [Don] Feder is not wrong to conclude: Absent a delicate balance--rights and duties, freedom and order--the social fabric begins to unravel. The rights explosion of the past three decades has taken us on a rapid descent to a culture without civility, decency, or even that degree of discipline necessary to maintain an advanced industrial civilization. Our cities are cesspools, our urban schools terrorist training camps, our legislatures brothels where rights are sold to the highest electoral bidder.

When you were in law school you had some noble idea of what a lawyer should be. A champion of individual rights; a defender of the Constitution; a guardian of the oppressed; an advocate for your client’s principles. Then after you practice for six months you realize we’re nothing but hired guns. Mouthpieces for sale to the highest bidder, available to anybody, any crook, any sleazebag with enough money to pay our outrageous fees. Nothing shocks you. It’s supposed to be an honorable profession, but you’ll meet so many crooked lawyers you’ll want to quit and find an honest job. Yeah, Mitch, you’ll get cynical. And it’s sad, really.

In this martial world dominated by men, women had little place. The Church's teachings might underpin feudal morality, yet when it came to the practicalities of life, a ruthless pragmatism often came into play. Kings and noblemen married for political advantage, and women rarely had any say in how they or their wealth were to be disposed in marriage. Kings would sell off heiresses and rich widows to the highest bidder, for political or territorial advantage, and those who resisted were heavily fined. Young girls of good birth were strictly reared, often in convents, and married off at fourteen or even earlier to suit their parents' or overlord's purposes. The betrothal of infants was not uncommon, despite the church's disapproval. It was a father's duty to bestow his daughters in marriage; if he was dead, his overlord or the King himself would act for him. Personal choice was rarely and issue. Upon marriage, a girl's property and rights became invested in her husband, to whom she owed absolute obedience. Every husband had the right to enforce this duty in whichever way he thought fit--as Eleanor was to find out to her cost. Wife-beating was common, although the Church did at this time attempt to restrict the length of the rod that a husband might use.

Without the mess, those beautiful moments would feel flat and meaningless. So I’ve learned to embrace it all.

American politics had two fatal flaws - flaws that led to its downfall.  The first was corruption.  Politicians lied with almost every breath they mustered and didn’t hesitate to slit each others throats for gain.  They were whores willing to sell their vote to the highest bidder. 

Behold the complacent salesman retailing the Good and True. One can even buy a so-called Religion, which is really but common morality sanctified with flowers and music. Rob the Church of her accessories and what remains behind? Yet the trusts thrive marvelously, for the prices are absurdly cheap,--a prayer for a ticket to heaven, a diploma for an honorable citizenship.Hide yourself under a bushel quickly, for if your real usefulness were known to the world you would soon be knocked down to the highest bidder by the public auctioneer.

A Submissive is supposed to treat her Dominant with respect.” “As should a Dominant to his Submissive,

Yes, Daddy is the richest man in the whole world.” And I know he’s not talking about money.

Ride my cock like a good little girl.

It’s not that I don’t want you, Daisy. You have to understand just how much I want you.

Grief and joy coexist.

A politician in our democratic government is a broker for the use of government force to the highest bidders.

The life spent in doing what you love is a different life indeed from putting yourself out for hire to the highest bidder.

War is an infidel; it holds no loyalties, neither to king nor countryman. She is a whore, selling herself to the highest bidder. Victory is bought in blood and steel.

I am meat, traded to the highest bidder: the only bidder. Fine, I’ll be your meat. I’ll be whatever you want me to be. Just give me a helmet.

Once a man can be bought, his loyalty is temporary and only owed to the highest bidder. And that is not always—or even often—the United States of America. If anything,

Artists, sorry to say this, are a bunch of selfish, egocentric kids who will sell their souls to the highest bidder.

The Trump administration is, in fact, very competent in achieving its main goal: stripping America down for parts and selling those parts to the highest bidders.

Death comes to all — but in America it has long been considered reasonable to offer the best chance of delay to the highest bidder.

You got dressed up for me,” I mumble into his ear, and I feel him smile against my cheek. “Of course, I did, Daisy Moon. This is your big night. And we all know I’m your only friend.

Education, in order to keep up the mighty delusion, encourages a species of ignorance. People are not taught to be really virtuous, but to behave properly. We are wicked because we are frightfully self-conscious. We nurse a conscience because we are afraid to tell the truth to others; we take refuge in pride because we are afraid to tell the truth to ourselves. How can one be serious with the world when the world itself is so ridiculous! The spirit of barter is everywhere. Honour and Chastity! Behold the complacent salesman retailing the Good and True. One can even buy a so-called Religion, which is really but common morality sanctified with flowers and music. Rob the Church of her accessories and what remains behind? Yet the trusts thrive marvelously, for the prices are absurdly cheap, --a prayer for a ticket to heaven, a diploma for an honourable citizenship. Hide yourself under a bushel quickly, for if your real usefulness were known to the world you would soon be knocked down to the highest bidder by the public auctioneer. Why do men and women like to advertise themselves so much? Is it not but an instinct derived from the days of slavery?

When I see justice sold to the highest bidder I remember Tio Baldo and how he had lost. So honesty then and service are rewarded by banishment and people sell themselves without so much ado because they have no beliefs--only a price.

THE HEAVENS BELONG TO THE HIGHEST BIDDER We have a brother in Africa who is a tall black guy and I have never seen anyone who is as much of a soldier in all my life. He has planted three churches in the occult capital of the world! In this country they lose many people in a three month period in human sacrifice when all the witches, warlocks and new age people go there. The rivers run red with blood. He has planted three churches in the middle of his country and got right in the face of the enemy. I have never seen anybody with grunt like that in my life! He has been attacked by werewolves and vampires. He has even got marks on his arms where vampires have come for him, missed and hit his arms! God has really been doing some work over there. One of the things this brother would say in some of his conferences is that the heavens belong to the highest bidder. An example of that in scripture is when the king came and asked if he was going to win the war:

I stole you, among others, from the streets of God’s birthplace. I forced you to work as a slave. Imprisoned, mistreated and starved you and your companion. To top it off, I am in the process of selling your life to the highest bidder. Why would you trust me?

The informal economy is the livelihood of many Lagosians. But corruption, in the form of piracy or of graft, also means that most people remain on the margins. The systems that could lift the majority out of poverty are undercut at every turn. Precisely because everyone takes a shortcut, nothing works and, for this reason, the only way to get anything done is to take another shortcut. The advantage in these situations goes to the highest bidders, those individuals most willing to pay money or to test the limits of the law.

Several historians see the regime of Duplessis as an anachronism. After his death, he was reproached for having been the head of a corrupt government, having sold the natural resources of Quebec to the highest bidder and having ignored the rights and liberties of the citizens.

Auctions are a venerable selling institution, in use since the time of Herodotus. The word comes from the Latin auctus, meaning to increase. An obscure term for auction, one guaranteed to impress friends and neighbors, is the Latin word subhastare. It is the conjunction of sub, meaning "under," and hasta, meaning "spear." After a military victory, a Roman soldier would plant his spear in the ground to mark the location of his spoils. Later, he would put these goods up for sale by auction. ¹The highest bidder was called the emptor, whence the term caveat emptor.

Mark it down. God does not save us because of what we’ve done. Only a puny god could be bought with tithes. Only an egotistical god would be impressed with our pain. Only a temperamental god could be satisfied by sacrifices. Only a heartless god would sell salvation to the highest bidders.

We look for ways to help each other,’ Myra goes on. Reeve sits back in his seat. ‘Ways to help each other what?’ ‘Escape,’ I answer. ‘Become something other than a possession to be traded to the highest bidder in marriage.’ Reeve blinks. ‘You would run from everything you know?’ ‘As far and as fast as I can,’ I confirm.

Dispute resolution is too important to be entrusted to governments. When we accept arbitrary authority from a violent monopoly protection racket, the authority is soon used to make us submit. Then that authority is for sale to the highest bidder and courts are used to get us to go along with all kinds of disastrous policies.

Chang believed that learning was dangerous and best suited for private contemplation, not something to put in the service of the highest bidder- as the Institute did, in thrall to the patronage of men with blind dreams of empire. Society was not bettered by such men of "vision" - though, if Chang was honest, was it bettered by anyone?

Yes, I’m here and I have to tell you something important…I married an alien,” Charlotte calmly announces.

I’m not sure if I love the idea of him cherishing me or if I’m terribly disappointed that Ronan Kade has no interest in corrupting me.

I love you more than I hate cars, so I decided I'd try to face my fears and take some risks.

A good Dom will make you feel safe in surrendering to him.

I don’t know many friends who are willing to partake in kinky group sex to cheer me up, but I’m sure thankful for this one.

Call me a sick fuck, but I want to be her daddy. I’d teach her every fucking thing she wants to know.

There’s something about this girl—she’s as sweet as she is fiery. I could have some fun finding all the ways to make her feel good, and I know I’d love every single second of it.

I want your pussy available to me at all times.

Under bilateral competition, market-price is determined within a range whose upper limit is set by the valuations of the lowest bidder among the actual buyers and the highest offerer among the excluded would-be sellers, and whose lower limit is set by the valuations of the lowest offerer among the actual sellers and the highest bidder among the excluded would-be buyers.

Wylan—and the obliging Kuwei—will get the weevil working,” Kaz continued. “Once we have Inej, we can move on Van Eck’s silos.” Nina rolled her eyes. “Good thing this is all about getting our money and not about saving Inej. Definitely not about that.” “If you don’t care about money, Nina dear, call it by its other names.” “Kruge? Scrub? Kaz’s one true love?” “Freedom, security, retribution.” “You can’t put a price on those things.” “No? I bet Jesper can. It’s the price of the lien on his father’s farm.” The sharpshooter looked at the toes of his boots. “What about you, Wylan? Can you put a price on the chance to walk away from Ketterdam and live your own life? And Nina, I suspect you and your Fjerdan may want something more to subsist on than patriotism and longing glances. Inej might have a number in mind too. It’s the price of a future, and it’s Van Eck’s turn to pay.” Matthias was not fooled. Kaz always spoke logic, but that didn’t mean he always told truth. “The Wraith’s life is worth more than that,” said Matthias. “To all of us.” “We get Inej. We get our money. It’s as simple as that.” “Simple as that,” said Nina. “Did you know I’m next in line for the Fjerdan throne? They call me Princess Ilse of Engelsberg.” “There is no princess of Engelsberg,” said Matthias. “It’s a fishing town.” Nina shrugged. “If we’re going to lie to ourselves, we might as well be grand about it.” Kaz ignored her, spreading a map of the city over the table, and Matthias heard Wylan murmur to Jesper, “Why won’t he just say he wants her back?” “You’ve met Kaz, right?” “But she’s one of us.” Jesper’s brows rose again. “One of us? Does that mean she knows the secret handshake? Does that mean you’re ready to get a tattoo?” He ran a finger up Wylan’s forearm, and Wylan flushed a vibrant pink. Matthias couldn’t help but sympathize with the boy. He knew what it was to be out of your depth, and he sometimes suspected they could forgo all of Kaz’s planning and simply let Jesper and Nina flirt the entirety of Ketterdam into submission. Wylan pulled his sleeve down self-consciously. “Inej is part of the crew.” “Just don’t push it.” “Why not?” “Because the practical thing would be for Kaz to auction Kuwei to the highest bidder and forget about Inej entirely.” “He wouldn’t—” Wylan broke off abruptly, doubt creeping over his features. None of them really knew what Kaz would or wouldn’t do. Sometimes Matthias wondered if even Kaz was sure. “Okay, Kaz,” said Nina, slipping off her shoes and wiggling her toes. “Since this is about the almighty plan, how about you stop meditating over that map and tell us just what we’re in for.

Suddenly, I find myself laughing out loud like a crazy person. Because here I am…sleeping in my van and judging a billion-dollar man for not being young enough for me. Daisy…you’re an idiot.

Politicians lie with almost every breath they mustered, and didn't hesitate to slit each other's throats for gain. They were whores willing to sell their vote to the highest bidder. The second was ineffectiveness. Politicians did not represent the people who elected them. They might have held onto the delusion that they served the public, but the only thing they represented was big business

A diamond may be forever, but terrorism, promiscuously funded, will be too. Let's make the connection clearly by tracing the path of the diamond. Diamonds start out in the earth, and eventually that earth is part of a country, like Sierra Leone, Angola, or the Democratic Republic of Congo. In those countries, desperate battles for control have been going on for decades, and the armies that fight the battles finance their ambitions with diamonds. Villagers are forced to mine the diamonds by ruthless rebels who maintain order through terror: by raping women and hacking off the limbs of the children, something, by the way, you never see in the De Beers ads. The rebels then smuggle the diamonds into neighboring dictatorships in exchange for guns and cash. There the diamonds are sold to the highest bidder--whether they be terrorists or "legitimate" dealers--and finally they're laundered in Europe, shipped to America, and end up in jewelry stores where they're purchased by men and given to women in exchange for oral sex. In the feminized world we live in, it's practically national policy that women are more evolved that men--but if that's so, how come they're still so impressed by shiny objects?

One would not have thought that children in America would ever have to choose between a teacher or a playground or sufficient toilet paper. Like grain in a time of famine, the immense resources which the nation does in fact possess go not to the child in the greatest need but to the child of the highest bidder—the child of parents who, more frequently than not, have also enjoyed the same abundance when they were schoolchildren.

The community has no bribe that will tempt a wise man. You may raise money enough to tunnel a mountain, but you cannot raise money enough to hire a man who is minding his own business. An efficient and valuable man does what he can, whether the community pay him for it or not. The inefficient offer their inefficiency to the highest bidder, and are forever expecting to be put into office. One would suppose that they were rarely disappointed.

From time to time, the people passing us stare for a moment too long, but I actually sort of love it. I’m sure they’re thinking that I’m much too young for him, but I don’t care. I feel like his, and I want them all to know it.

The decision by the ruling elites in ancient Rome—dominated by a bloated military and a corrupt oligarchy, much like the United States—to strangle the vain and idiotic Emperor Commodus in his bath in the year 192 did not halt the growing chaos and precipitous decline of the Roman Empire. Commodus, like a number of late-Roman emperors, and like Trump, was incompetent and consumed by his own vanity. He commissioned innumerable statues of himself as Hercules and had little interest in governance. He used his position as head of state to make himself the star of his own ongoing public show. He fought victoriously as a gladiator in the arena in fixed bouts. Power for Commodus, as it is for Trump, was primarily about catering to his bottomless narcissism. He sold public offices to the ancient equivalents of Betsy DeVos and Steven Mnuchin. Commodus was replaced by the reformer Pertinax, the Bernie Sanders of his day, who attempted in vain to curb the power of the Praetorian Guards, the ancient version of the military-industrial complex. The Praetorian Guards assassinated Pertinax three months after he became emperor. The Guards then auctioned off his position to the highest bidder. The next emperor, Didius Julianus, lasted sixty-six days. There would be five emperors in AD 193, the year after the assassination of Commodus. Trump and our decaying empire have ominous historical precedents.

Negroes were constantly being arrested in the city, for crimes they committed and for crimes they did not, for rudeness or talking back or looking at a white woman, for being in the wrong neighborhood or being suspected of being in the vicinity of the wrong neighborhood. Upon conviction, many of these men were, in the words of one historian, "literally sold to the highest bidders." Convicts were much in demand as workers, and the state, not the convict, got the wage.

The United States had been created through an act of disloyalty. No matter how eloquently the Declaration of Independence had attempted to justify the American rebellion, a residual guilt hovered over the circumstances of the country's founding. Arnold changed all that. By threatening to destroy the newly created republic through, ironically, his own betrayal, Arnold gave this nation of traitors the greatest of gifts; a myth of creation. The American people had come to revere George Washington, but a hero alone was not sufficient to bring them together. Now they had the despised villain Benedict Arnold. They knew both what they were fighting for - and against. The story of American's genesis could finally move beyond the break with the mother country and start to focus on the process by which thirteen former colonies could become a nation. As Arnold had demonstrated, the real enemy was not Great Britain, but those Americans who sought to undercut their fellow citizens commitment to one another. Whether it was Joseph Reed's willingness to promote his state's interests at the expenses of what was best for the country as a whole or Arnold's decision to sell his loyalty to the highest bidder, the greatest danger to America's future cam from self-serving opportunism masquerading as patriotism. At this fragile state in the country's development, a way had to be found to strengthen rather than destroy the existing framework of government. The Continental Congress was far from perfect, but it offered a start to what could one day be a great nation. By turning traitor, Arnold had alerted the American people to how close they had all come to betraying the Revolution by putting their own interests ahead of their newborn country's. Already the name Benedict Arnold was becoming a byword for that most hateful of crimes: treason against the people of the United States.

One can even buy a so-called Religion, which is really but common morality sanctified with flowers and music. Rob the Church of her accessories and what remains behind? Yet the trusts thrive marvelously, for the prices are absurdly cheap, -- a prayer for a ticket to heaven, a diploma for an honourable citizenship. Hide yourself under a bushel quickly, for if your real usefulness were known to the world you would soon be knocked down to the highest bidder by the public auctioneer.

But it turns out convincing yourself that someone else has it worse doesn’t actually make you feel better. Because sadness is just…all around. And I don’t mean in just these meetings, but everywhere. No one is really immune or safe from sadness.

It’s atrociously unfair! Men our age aren’t even asked to attend balls. The idea of boys marrying at eighteen is unfathomable for our set. It’s what happens in the country! And yet, we are paraded around like…like…cattle…to be sold…to the highest bidder!” Ella interrupted again. “Well, to be fair, perhaps it’s best men aren’t married off at eighteen. Have you met the average eigh teen-year-old male?” Vivi’s dry remark followed. “Mmmm. I’m still trying to avoid taking offense at being compared to livestock. Go on, Alex…” Alex

No. Because she needs me to do whatever it is I want to do to her in this very moment. “Why do you need me?” I ask her. I know she’s meant for me. I knew the second I saw her that she needed me just as much as I needed her. “Master,” she whimpers, her head slightly turning to the side with the need to thrash as I continue the ruthless motions. Even with the heavy, jeweled metal covering the scars over her ankle, she hasn’t realized. She has no idea why she needs me. I grab her throat with my left hand, halting my movements. I put heavy pressure on her rough, sensitive G-spot with both fingers inside her. She’s close

It must be nice to sit back in your study and look at your Thomas Jefferson biographies and think to yourself, 'thank God we're finally killing this big government leviathan" without having to reconcile the fact that the kill off isn't elevating you, the common man, to new autonomy. It's facilitating the enshrinement of extremely wealthy jerk off ideologues who see the world as something to be sold off to the highest bidder. Big gub'ment in the hands of presumptuous elites? No thanks. The world turned into a regulation free marketplace with no avenue for recourse against the profit-at-any-cost set? Double no thanks.

that I played a part in building. We needed a safe way for the Submissives and the Dominants to learn. This club isn’t a free-for-all. Although each Dominant has their own way of doing things, their own preferences and kinks, and we encourage the variety. Dressed in leathers, the trainers are lined up and waiting for the women to choose instruments from the extensive collection. Their sole purpose is to provide a means for the women to explore their limits. One woman, I believe her name is Lisa, is concerned about her positioning. Although she’s dressed in a simple cream chiffon romper, she’s on the waxed floor of the stage, practicing with a trainer offering advice. She’s not very

Money has always tried to break through these barriers, like water seeping through cracks in a dam. Parents have been reduced to selling some of their children into slavery in order to buy food for the others. Devout Christians have murdered, stolen and cheated – and later used their spoils to buy forgiveness from the church. Ambitious knights auctioned their allegiance to the highest bidder, while securing the loyalty of their own followers by cash payments. Tribal lands were sold to foreigners from the other side of the world in order to purchase an entry ticket into the global economy. Money has an even darker side. For although money builds universal trust between strangers, this trust is invested not in humans, communities or sacred values, but in money itself and in the impersonal systems that back it. We do not trust the stranger, or the next-door neighbour – we trust the coin they hold. If they run out of

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The stone is not a plaything for little girls, Camille.” He hardened his stare. She tried to keep her eyes equally fierce. “The path to the stone is said to be riddled with traps, endless holes in the earth where you fall forever. Deep caves shelter a species of enormous beasts that protect the stone. Men who set out to find it are usually never seen again.” She sat back, surprised by his intensity and passion. “Well, then,” she said, and watched him puff out his chest victoriously. “I do hope you set out to find it.” He glowered at her. “Oh, I most certainly will. The map and stone will be mine.” Camille stood, pushing her chair back. “It looks like you have some competition, then. I won’t give up until I’ve brought my father back to life.” McGreenery flashed his white smile and roared with laughter. “Bring him back? Oh yes, you would actually use the stone.” She lifted her chin. “And you wouldn’t?” He laughed at her again. “Dear child, you don’t know a thing about it, do you? You don’t have the faintest clue how the stone will work. If you think this is some short journey without risks or sacrifices, you should sail home right now. The magic of that stone is but a fraction of the everlasting power it leads to. A clever businessman would sell that power to the highest bidder.

Should I be ashamed of this whole…Daddy thing? What started as a joke became something that not only has us both very aroused, but also has given me a sense of security and comfort that I haven’t felt in a very long time, if ever. Is that worse? That I call Ronan Daddy, because he literally watches over me and treats me like his little girl? Even if it is, who cares? Clearly, he and I share a kink for it, and we both enjoy it, so why should I feel weird about calling him that? It has nothing to do with Ronan being my actual father and everything to do with us giving each other something we’re clearly both craving. He feels best when he’s needed, and I feel safest when he’s there to protect me. If people think that’s weird, then fuck them.

One way Dan demonstrates to his students the concept of sunk cost is through a game in which participants bid to purchase a $100 bill. Rule #1: Bidding starts at $5. Rule #2: Bids can only increase by $5 at a time. Rule #3: The winner pays the amount of his or her final bid and gets the $100. The last rule is that the second-highest bidder also pays what he or she has bid, but gets nothing. As the game progresses, the bids rise to $50 and $55, at which point Dan will have made money. (The $55 bidder will pay $55 to get $100 and the second bidder will pay $50 and get nothing.) At some point, someone bids $85 and a competitor bids $90. At that point, Dan stops them and reminds them that the first person will win $10 ($100 minus $90) and the second person will lose $85. He asks the $85 bidder whether they want to continue to $95. Inevitably, they say yes. Then he asks the first person the same question, and he happily agrees to go to $100. But it doesn’t stop there at $100. Next, Dan asks the person who’s bid $95 if they want to go to $105. As before, if they say no, they’ll lose their previous bid: $95. But at this point, when the bidding is over $100, if they say yes, that means they are now actively bidding knowing that they will lose money. This time it’s $5 ($105 bid minus $100 winnings), but the loss will only increase from there. Inevitably, both participants keep bidding higher and higher until at some point one person realizes how crazy this is and they stop (and the person stopping ends up losing $95 more).

Younger There's a conclusion to my illusion I ASSURE YOU THIS There's no end to this confusion if you let it wish you well SOUL TO SELL Highest bidders, can't you tell what you're getting? There is a light to all this darkness, I will tell you this There's redemption in you asking them just why it is Some answers are better left unspoken when you know you ain't getting any Younger, younger, younger Are you? Younger, younger, younger Are you? You ain't getting any Younger, younger, younger Are you? Younger, younger, younger Are you? Why we fight to get on loving I've been wondering How your mind will leave you hanging your heart lingering STAY LOST Then found by whoever stays around forgetting There is a way to be yourself, I assure you this There's a way to catch your dreams without falling asleep You might as well get it while you can, babe Cause you know you ain't getting any Younger, younger, younger Are you? Younger, younger, younger Are you? You ain't getting any Younger, younger, younger Are you? Younger, younger, younger Are you? There is a light to all this darkness if only we Fight against them telling us how we should be I REFUSE TO HAVE YOU BREAK ME When you know you ain't getting any Younger, younger, younger Are you? Younger, younger, younger Are you? You ain't getting any Younger, younger, younger Are you? Younger, younger, younger Are you? Younger, younger, younger Are you? Younger, younger, younger Are you? You ain't getting any Younger, younger, younger Are you? Younger, younger, younger Are you?

Would you be willing to tell me how the ladies came to be here? I mean, who are they?” Ian drew a long, impatient breath, tipped his head back, and absently massaged the muscles at the back of his neck. “I met Elizabeth a year and a half ago at a party. She’d just made her debut, was already betrothed to some unfortunate nobleman, and was eager to test her wiles on me.” “Test her wiles on you? I thought you said she was engaged to another.” Sighing irritably at his friend’s naiveté, Ian said curtly, “Debutantes are a different breed from any women you’ve known. Twice a year their mamas bring them to London to make their debut. They’re paraded about during the Season like horses at an auction, then their parents sell them as wives to whoever bids the highest. The winning bidder is selected by the expedient measure of choosing whoever has the most important title and the most money.” “Barbaric!” said Jake indignantly. Ian shot him an ironic look. “Don’t waste your pity. It suits them perfectly. All they want from marriage is jewels, gowns, and the freedom to have discreet liaisons with whomever they please, once they produce the requisite heir. They’ve no notion of fidelity or honest human feeling.” Jake’s brows lifted at that.

Justice to the highest bidder

Submissives are collared, their Dominants giving them permission to learn while they sit patiently in the audience or accompany them onto the stage to do the training themselves. The uncollared Submissives are mostly unattended. One has a suitor, but he’s merely watching from the audience. Being collared is a serious commitment. Only a minority of the couples within the club are collared. Several have paired off and continue their play exclusively, but without a collar the commitment has yet to be made and the Submissive is not off-limits. It’s not an offense to not be given a collar, it’s simply something that isn’t rushed into. There's a sense of respect and obligation surrounding the process, and every Dominant or Master has their own way of going about it. I’ve never had the honor of giving out a collar. None of the handful of women I’ve kept as Slaves have wanted to stay. They may have said one thing, but I knew better. I have yet to meet the woman who is my match. The women on

You've got to look after yourself, nothing comes for free and you've got to do the other bloke before he does you. That's what the pensioners don't realise. They might be owed something but there's nobody left to cough up. It's a different world now. The war spirit is dead and gone, packaged and sold off to the highest bidder.

Only three years after American soldiers seized the Mexican province of California, the Swamp Land Act of 1850 passed Congress, granting new states the right to sell flood-prone land to individuals as long as the water could be drained from it. The legislation sparked the nationwide annihilation of wetlands from the Florida Everglades to the San Francisco tidelands. The Swamp Land Act was a classic form of the get-rich-quick scheme that defined the colonial project: steal indigenous lands, auction them off to the highest bidder, and then enforce property taxes, guaranteeing a long-term source of funds. It would transfer the promise of future financial security away from the country’s first inhabitants. In just two years’ time, nearly 790,000 acres of California’s wetlands were shifted into the hands of fewer than two hundred private owners, who, having paid the bargain rate of $ 1.25 per acre with no money down, proceeded to dam, dike, drain, and fill the largest estuary on the Pacific coast.

As Arnold had demonstrated, the real enemy was not Great Britain, but those Americans who sought to undercut their fellow citizens’ commitment to one another. Whether it was Joseph Reed’s willingness to promote his state’s interests at the expense of what was best for the country as a whole or Arnold’s decision to sell his loyalty to the highest bidder, the greatest danger to America’s future came from self-serving opportunism masquerading as patriotism.

kidnapped so that their organs can be sold to the highest bidder

Sell yourself?” repeated the peeress. Fine ladies are not often fond of hearing things called by their proper names, “Yes, sell myself,” repeated Violet, bitterly, leaning against the mantelpiece, with a painful smile upon her lips. “Would you not put me up to auction, knock me down to the highest bidder? Marriage is the mart, mothers the auctioneers, and he who bids the highest wins. Women are like racers, brought up only to run for Cups, and win handicaps for their owners.” “Nonsense!” said her mother, impatiently. “You have lost your senses, I think. There is no question of ‘selling,’ as you term it. Marriage is a social compact, of course, where alliances suitable in position, birth, and wealth, are studied. Why should you pretend to be wiser than all the rest of the world? Most amiable and excellent women have married without thinking love a necessary ingredient Why should you object to a good alliance if it be a mariage de convenance?

I was a whore, selling my services to the highest bidder. I wasn’t interested in truth. I was interested in winning because winning led to money. I’d completely lost my sense of honor. When

they’re pearls. And as such, should only be auctioned off to the highest bidder.” Now I was very confused. Only slaves were auctioned, and they had been outlawed long ago;

Through the way it values - or does not - the finite resources of our planet, double entry [accounting] now has the potential to make or break life on the earth. We can continue to ignore the free gifts of nature in the accounts of our nations and corporations, and thereby continue to ruin the planet. Or we can begin to account for nature and make it thrive again. If numbers and money are the only language spoken in the global capitalist economy, then this is the language we must use. Accountants, remodelled as eco-accountants, can plan a central role in this conversation - and it is for this reason that Jonathan Watts wrote in 2010 that they may be the one last hope for life on earth. As he also pointed out, done badly, eco-accounting will mean the natural world is further 'commodified, priced, sliced and sold to the highest bidder'. But done well, it could reframe our values and transform the capitalist world in ways we are yet to imagine.

Devotion purchased, will disappear with the highest bidder.

knowing I’m finally in a place I can call home.

By then, Toulouse had learned real wealth didn't come from stolen trinkets, but from knowledge. We sold secrets instead of gems, sold them to the highest bidder.

This power I have over him is intoxicating. And I realize at this moment just how much control I have. I can have his attention and his time, even if I have to push his buttons to get it.

each antique sold off to the highest bidder. For a few months, I had possessed them, lovingly working to establish each item’s value and historical importance.

Despite my nervousness, I’m excited as I step into the hallway. This place is a living, breathing fantasy.

I’ve been told again and again, at school after school, that career service offices have little or nothing to say to students who are interested in something other than the big four of law, medicine, finance, and consulting. At the recruitment fairs, the last two dominate the field. And some schools go even further. Stanford offers companies special access to its students for a fee of ten thousand dollars—and it is hard to believe that Stanford is the only one. Selling your students to the highest bidder: it doesn’t get more cynical than that. But though the process isn’t often that direct, that’s basically the way the system works. As a friend of mine, a third-generation Yalie, once remarked, the purpose of Yale College is to manufacture Yale alumni. David Foster Wallace (Amherst ’85), has a character put it like this: The college itself turned out to have a lot of moral hypocrisy about it, e.g., congratulating itself on its diversity and the leftist piety of its politics while in reality going about the business of preparing elite kids to enter elite professions and make a great deal of money, thus increasing the pool of prosperous alumni donors.

Aza [Raskin] said: 'For instance, Facebook tomorrow could start batching your notifications, so you only get one push notification a day ... They could do that tomorrow.' ....So instead of getting 'this constant drip of behavioural cocaine,' telling you every few minutes that somebody liked your picture, commented on your post, has a birthday tomorrow, and on and on - you would get one daily update, like a newspaper, summarising it all. You'd be pushed to look once a day, instead of being interrupted several times an hour. 'Here's another one,' he said 'Infinite scroll. ...it's catching your impulses before your brain has a chance to really get involved and make a decision.' Facebook and Instagram and the others could simply turn off infinite scroll - so that when you get to the bottom of the screen, you have to make a conscious decision to carry on scrolling. Similarly, these sites could simply switch off the things that have been shown to most polarise people politically, stealing our ability to pay collective attention. Since there's evidence YouTube's recommendation engine is radicalising people, Tristan [Harris] told one interviewer: 'Just turn it off. They can turn it off in a heartbeat.' It's not as if, he points out, the day before recommendations were introduced, people were lost and clamouring for somebody to tell them what to watch next. Once the most obvious forms of mental pollution have been stopped, they said, we can begin to look deeper, at how these sites could be redesigned to make it easier for you to restrain yourself and think about your longer-term goals. ...there could be a button that says 'here are all your friends who are nearby and are indicating they'd like to meet up today.' You click it, you connect, you put down your phone and hang out with them. Instead of being a vacuum sucking up your attention and keeping it away from the outside world, social media would become a trampoline, sending you back into that world as efficiently as possible, matched with the people you want to see. Similarly, when you set up (say) a Facebook account, it could ask you how much time you want to spend per day or per week on the site. ...then the website could help you to achieve your goal. One way could be that when you hit that limit, the website could radically slow down. In tests, Amazon found that even 100 milliseconds of delay in the pace at which a page loads results in a substantial drop-off in people sticking around to buy the product. Aza said: 'It just gives your brain a chance to catch up to your impulse and [ask] - do I really want to be here? No.' In addition, Facebook could ask you at regular intervals - what changes do you want to make to your life? ...then match you up with other people nearby... who say they also want to make that change and have indicated they are looking for the equivalent of gym buddies. ...A battery of scientific evidence shows that if you want to succeed in changing something, you should meet up with groups of people doing the same. At the moment, they said, social media is designed to grab your attention and sell it to the highest bidder, but it could be designed to understand your intentions and to better help you achieve them. Tristan and Aza told me that it's just as easy to design and program this life-affirming Facebook as the life-draining Facebook we currently have. I think that most people, if you stopped them in the street and painted them a vision of these two Facebooks, would say they wanted the one that serves your intentions. So why isn't it happened? It comes back... to the business model.

In 1980, only about 2 percent of Iowa’s hogs were raised under contract. The rest were raised by independent farmers who sold their animals on an open cash market to the highest bidder. In 1995, the share of hogs grown under contract had grown tenfold, to 20 percent. By 1998 it would double again to 40 percent, and by 2011 well over 70 percent of all hogs would be raised under contract.

This Land is Our Home [Verse] From the rolling plains to the mountain high, Our fathers bled and fought, they didn't die for a lie. Now the ghost of our past whispers in the wind, Saying "Son, don't let the dream die, fight to the end." [Verse 2] The city folks in their ivory towers, Selling out our lands for their fleeting powers. But out here in the country, we'll make a stand, With calloused hands we'll take back this land. [Chorus] This land is our home, and we're not backing down, We stand for our God and the small-town crowd. Proud to be American, we ain't selling our soul, There'll be hell to pay, we're taking back control. [Verse 3] From the chapel bells to the fields of grain, The spirit of this country runs deep in our veins. Mama's prayers, Daddy's hardened hands, We fight for the future, we take a stand. [Verse 4] In the quiet dawn, we hear the land's lament, Sold to the highest bidder, they don't repent. But we're the heartland, the rock of this earth, We'll reclaim our pride, know what it's worth. [Chorus] This land is our home, and we're not backing down, We stand for our God and the small-town crowd. Proud to be American, we ain't selling our soul, There'll be hell to pay, we're taking back control.

trained until they were seventeen, when their virginity was sold to the highest bidder.