Jackpot Winning Quotes

Now a guarantee of happiness—that's a great deal. But a guarantee to be allowed to pursue the jackpot of happiness? Merely an opportunity to buy a lottery ticket. Someone would surely win millions, but millions would surely pay for it.

Luck is not as random as you think. Before that lottery ticket won the jackpot, someone had to buy it.

I think I’m getting a notion of how to do this. O.K., a carnival works because people pay to feel amazed and scared. They can nibble around a midway getting amazed here and scared there, or both. And do you know what else? Hope. Hope they’ll win a prize, break the jackpot, meet a girl, hit a bull’s-eye in front of their buddies. In a carnival you call it luck or chance, but it’s the same as hope. Now hope is a good feeling that needs risk to work. How good it is depends on how big the risk is if what you hope doesn’t happen. You hope your old auntie croaks and leaves you a carload of shekels, but she might leave them to her cat. You might not hit the target or win the stuffed dog, you might lose your money and look like a fool. You don’t get the surge without the risk. Well. Religion works the same way. The only difference is that it’s more amazing than even Chick or the twins. And it’s a whole lot scarier than the Roll-a-plane or the Screamer, or any simp twister. This scare stuff laps over into the hope department too. The hope you get from religion is a three-ring, all-star hope because the risk is outrageous. Bad! Well, I’m working on it. I’ve got the amazing part down. And the scary bits are a snap. But I’ve got to come up with a hope.

It’s like winning a lottery. Although the odds are astronomical, most weeks, someone hits the jackpot.

His mouth meets my clit and I’m not lost on the fact that this man will have gone down on me four times today. Forget winning the mega millions, I’ve hit the cunnilingus jackpot.

Cultures have tried to teach a malign and apparently persuasive lie: that the most important metric of a good life is wealth and the luxury and power it brings. The rich think they live better when they are even richer. In America and many other places they use their wealth politically, to persuade the public to elect or accept leaders who will do that for them. They say that the justice we have imagined is socialism that threatens our freedom. Not everyone is gullible: many people lead contented lives without wealth. But many others are persuaded; they vote for low taxes to keep the jackpot full in case they too can win it, even though that is a lottery they are almost bound to lose. Nothing better illustrates the tragedy of an unexamined life: there are no winners in this macabre dance of greed and delusion. No respectable or even intelligible theory of value supposes that making and spending money has any value or importance in itself and almost everything people buy with that money lacks any importance as well. The ridiculous dream of a princely life is kept alive by ethical sleepwalkers. And they in turn keep injustice alive because their self-contempt breeds a politics of contempt for others. Dignity is indivisible.

I was careful, then, to present myself as just another immigrant, glad to be in the land where the pursuit of happiness was guaranteed in writing, which, when one comes to think about it, is not such a great deal. Now a guarantee of happiness—that’s a great deal. But a guarantee to be allowed to pursue the jackpot of happiness? Merely an opportunity to buy a lottery ticket. Someone would surely win millions, but millions would surely pay for it.

Now a guarantee of happiness—that’s a great deal. But a guarantee to be allowed to pursue the jackpot of happiness? Merely an opportunity to buy a lottery ticket. Someone would surely win millions, but millions would surely pay for it.

Free education, almost free healthcare, a generous benefits system and a better state pension than elsewhere, guarantee equal opportunities for all citizens. The only problem is that all these require a considerable amount of public revenue. This is why the common assertion that to be born in Finland is like winning the jackpot in the lottery is only applicable when you are at the receiving end. A far more common experience is that you need to win the lottery just to cover the tax bill.

The crowd were totally behind him and it spurred him on, I was right in the heat of battle. There was only one to win; I dug deep and summoned up every bit of strength, I had in me to put in to one punch to see if I could hit the jackpot. I drew him to the ropes and put everything in to a cracking right uppercut and just missed, bastard!

This person sees not her own hand depositing the next dollar in a slot machine, but the hand of fate, or God. It’s her true conviction that there are forces at work for her to win a large jackpot— or at least to win back the money lost. After all, the only-for-show pictures of fruit had almost aligned with one another the last couple spins.

I was careful, then, to present myself as just another immigrant, glad to be in the land where the pursuit of happiness was guaranteed in writing, which, when one comes to think about it, is not such a great deal. Now a guarantee of happiness—that’s a great deal. But a guarantee to be allowed to pursue the jackpot of happiness? Merely an opportunity to buy a lottery ticket. Someone would surely win millions, but millions would surely pay for it. It

Another reason for our resistance [to the idea of idolatrous friendships] is that these friendships, at least in the beginning, feel like winning the friendship jackpot. Like you've finally found the person who gets you, who is there for you, and who makes you feel at home. When our idol has not yet failed us, when the water has not yet drained out of the broken cistern, when the storm has not yet come to destroy our house built on sand, we perceive our friendship to be the best thing ever. But just because a friendship that replaces Jesus "feels right" does not make it right.

A reward-sensitive person is highly motivated to seek rewards—from a promotion to a lottery jackpot to an enjoyable evening out with friends. Reward sensitivity motivates us to pursue goals like sex and money, social status and influence. It prompts us to climb ladders and reach for faraway branches in order to gather life’s choicest fruits. But sometimes we’re too sensitive to rewards. Reward sensitivity on overdrive gets people into all kinds of trouble. We can get so excited by the prospect of juicy prizes, like winning big in the stock market, that we take outsized risks and ignore obvious warning signals.

Once an opportunist like Mickey, who took the argument when she jumped on some devastated wretch's machine and jackpotted that it was the "cash-ino's money" she was winning, Moon returned after her six month break with the view that the separation had somehow sweetened the honeypot. The sad reality, she quickly learned, was that she was not irreplaceable; as such, the Casino felt no compunction to welcome her back with multi-jackpots. Instead, it took her money everyday and did not once give her a jackpot so that she could say, "Ah. They missed me." Instead, all she could keep saying was, "Verr-y bed. Verr-y bed. Suck-ah all my money!

Slot machines provide a classic example of variable rewards of the hunt. Gamblers plunk $1 billion per day into slot machines in American casinos, which is a testament to the machines’ power to compel players.[lxxxiv] By awarding money in random intervals, games of chance entice players with the prospect of a jackpot. Of course, winning is entirely outside the gambler’s control — yet the pursuit can be intoxicating.

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a celebration of the president’s bravery during the campaign, rendered in shiny black and white, like a giant Victorian steel engraving executed by OCD fairies. The president stood smiling, her arms outstretched to America. Her opponent loomed behind her, as he once actually had, Verity herself having watched this debate live. Seeing this now, she recalled her own sickened disbelief at his body language, the shadowing, his deliberate violation of his opponent’s personal space. “I don’t think anyone I know believes there was ever any real chance of him winning,” she said to Eunice. “I don’t know whether I did myself, but I was still scared shitless of it.” She was looking at how the artist had rendered his hands. Grabby.

Your chances of winning the jackpot in the UK lottery, in which you must correctly guess 6 random numbers between 1 and 49, are around 1 in 14 million. In other words, if you play the lottery then take a flight, you are unfortunately more likely to die in the plane than win the lottery.

To see how cavalier progressives can be with taxpayers’ money, consider the case of Leroy Fick. In 2011, the fifty-nine-year-old Fick won a $2 million lottery jackpot. Still, the Michigan Department of Health and Human Services ruled he could continue receiving food stamps. The Obama administration agreed. The Detroit News explained the government’s rationale: “If Fick had chosen to accept monthly payments of his jackpot, the winnings would be considered income. But by choosing to accept a lump sum payment, the winnings were considered ‘assets’ and aren’t counted in determining food stamp eligibility.

Odds of winning Powerball: 1 in 292,201,338 Imagine having to guess which second of a day someone is thinking of—any date, hour, minute, and second from the time they’re born to the time they turn 9. If you match, you win the lottery prize. The jackpot is yours. All you have to do is think of the resident of the United States whose name is written down over there on that folded piece of paper. (Hint: they are older than the age of 10.)

But as he approached fifty, Kenny yearned to do something different. Someone told him that More Than Money—the same inheritors group Jeff Weissglass got involved with—was hiring an executive director. He landed the position and, in short order, discovered that his pregnant teens had at least one thing in common with these young heirs and heiresses: Society defined and stereotyped both groups by how much money they did or didn’t have. The foundations that funded adolescent pregnancy care assumed the girls were getting knocked up because they were poor, “which was not necessarily true,” Kenny says, whereas the inheritors were pegged as “entitled and spoiled and lazy—and there’s no basis for that.” The anti-inheritor bias proved so toxic that some of Kenny’s former colleagues shunned him after he took the new job. “They’re like, ‘What a sellout! What a cop-out! Why would you do that?’ ” he recalls. “What does it say about our culture that everyone wants to win the lottery in some way, shape, or form, and there’s a whole segment of our culture that hates people who win the big payout.” This is indeed a paradox. Oscar Mayer heir Chuck Collins gave away his $500,000 inheritance in 1986, when he was a young man. (Invested in the S&P 500, it would be worth about $14 million today.) He has since dedicated himself, through the Institute for Policy Studies, to educating the American public about inequality. His memoir, Born on Third Base, includes the following scene: Speaking to a crowd of about 350 people, he asks who among them feels rage toward the wealthiest 1 percent. Almost everyone raises a hand. He then asks, “How many of you wish you were in the wealthiest 1 percent?” They laugh, but again, almost everyone. “People are envious,” Kenny says. “And what you end up doing with envy is demeaning whoever it is that you envy, because they have what we think we deserve.” During his time at More Than Money, Kenny grew friendly with Paul Schervish, then the director of the Center on Wealth and Philanthropy, and when Schervish offered him the associate director job, Kenny jumped. He’d seen how inheritors grappled with their unearned fortunes. Now he wanted to better understand their parents. Havens was the numbers guy “and I was in charge of: ‘I’d like to know what these people are thinking, and nobody ever asks them.’ 

Jason Kurland, forty-seven, represented them all. In fall 2011, Kurland, then an attorney at the Long Island branch of the firm Rivkin Radler specializing in commercial real estate law, received a phone call that would determine his future. The caller, seeking legal advice, had gotten Kurland’s name from another client. Payment would not be an issue because he and two coworkers had just won a $254 million Powerball jackpot. After taxes on their lump-sum payout, they would have $104 million to share. We stereotype lottery winners as financially unsophisticated. Not these guys. They were a founding partner, senior portfolio manager, and chief investment officer for Belpointe Asset Management, a financial firm in Greenwich, Connecticut, where mansions sprout from spacious lots and single-family homes list for quintuple the national median price. Kurland was no lottery expert, but he quickly made it his business to become one. He researched how different states tax lottery winnings, whether and how big jackpot winners need to be identified (at least eight states let them remain anonymous), and the legal tricks one might use, depending on location, to claim a monster windfall. Claiming in the name of a trust or a limited liability corporation, for instance, won’t reduce the initial tax hit, but it may limit a winner’s public exposure. Some states let you claim using a legal entity and others don’t. Some require press conferences. Some allow an attorney to claim the prize as a trustee. “In that case, the attorney signs the back of the ticket—and you have to make sure you trust that attorney,” Kurland said. (We will come to see the irony in that advice.)

We’ve heard the horror stories, too. Attorney Richard Watts, whom we met in the introduction, tells me another: One early client, three decades ago, was a working-class guy with a lottery win of about $60 million after taxes. He came to Watts in deep trouble, but he came too late: “It was all gone in five years: bankrupt, wife gone, kids gone, kids on drugs, kids in jail—really, truly a life he could not recover from.

A xenophobe is someone who attacks people born somewhere else as a way of denying that his own life has become so small and (in his secret heart) worthless that he has to pretend a geographical accident is some sort of achievement. Moreover, he has to hate everybody who didn’t win the bogus jackpot in order to shore up the notion that his ‘prize’ has any real value at all.

I was careful, then, to present myself as his another immigrant, glad to be in the land where the pursuit of happiness was guaranteed in writing, which, when one comes to think of it, is not such a great deal. Now a guarantee of happiness— that’s a great deal. But a guarantee to be allowed to pursue the jackpot of happiness? Merely an opportunity to buy a lottery ticket. Someone will surely win millions, but millions would surely pay for it.

Having you as my son is like winning the lottery. Not the mega millions jackpot but like a small $20 price.

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California State University Professor Mike Orkin points out that if a person drives ten miles to buy a ticket, he or she is about sixteen times more likely to get killed in a car crash on the way than to win the jackpot. Wait a minute, you say; that may be for one ticket, but they’re buying a lot of tickets—surely, that improves the odds. It does, but Orkin notes that a person who buys fifty tickets a week will win the jackpot on average about once every 30,000 years.

There’s snow in my head, too. Wide blizzards of bad news blowing sideways. My few hopes are desperate ones. One key fantasy on the porch—no kidding—is winning the magazine sweepstakes I’ve never entered. I habitually filch sweepstakes forms from doctor’s-office magazines or shopping circulars. Sitting outside by flashlight—have to change that overhead porch bulb—I meticulously fill them out, imagining the limo pulling up with balloons and champagne. Such a good story we’ll be: two poets win a jackpot….

Playing the lottery is foolish, until you win more than you have ever spent on lottery tickets; and wise, as soon as you win the jackpot.

What will I do to appreciate Lord Bubuza? I contacted him after reading comments on the internet about his lottery spell. So many people thanked him for casting a lottery spell and revealing the lottery winning numbers to them which they played and won the lottery jackpot. I showed my husband the testimonies I read about lord Bubuza spell and he insisted that we give it a TRY. I spoke to lord Bubuza for help to win the LOTTERY, he requested my name and some information and said he needs them to cast a lottery spell to reveal the lottery winning numbers. I doubted Again but my husband said GO AHEAD so I provided the information and his requirements to cast the spell, after casting the spell he gave me some digit numbers and said it was revealed when casting the spell. I bought the ticket and played the numbers. I was shocked when I was announced the winner of $60 million from the Ontario Lottery and Gaming Corporation (OLG), join me appreciate him

then, to present myself as just another immigrant, glad to be in the land where the pursuit of happiness was guaranteed in writing, which, when one comes to think about it, is not such a great deal. Now a guarantee of happiness—that’s a great deal. But a guarantee to be allowed to pursue the jackpot of happiness? Merely an opportunity to buy a lottery ticket. Someone would surely win millions, but millions would surely pay for it. It was in the name of happiness, I told my aunt, that I helped the General toward the next step in his plan, the creation of a nonprofit charitable organization that could receive tax-deductible donations, the Benevolent Fraternity of Former Soldiers of the Army of the Republic of Vietnam.

angry refugees who could not or would not dream the American Dream. I was careful, then, to present myself as just another immigrant, glad to be in the land where the pursuit of happiness was guaranteed in writing, which, when one comes to think about it, is not such a great deal. Now a guarantee of happiness—that’s a great deal. But a guarantee to be allowed to pursue the jackpot of happiness? Merely an opportunity to buy a lottery ticket. Someone would surely win millions, but millions would surely pay for it.