Kart Quotes

Boggle with sex addicts is up there with go-kart racing with junkies.

We weren't Sherlock Holmes and John Watson. I was ok with that, I thought. We had things they didn't, too. Like electricity, and refrigerators. And Mario Kart.

Persephone smiled. "Caleb and I play Super MArio Kart every day at one, and when he cancelled on me I knew something was up." I looked at Caleb slowly.

He looked back at the mirror. "I know it's completely ridiculous, but I can't keep quiet about it any longer. Your closet looks like it was put together by a blind nun, and your brother acts like a cross between a monkey and a go-kart, and you have the social skills of a rock. But I like you, Amy. Quite—quite a bit." He paused. "So, congratulations.

You remind me more of Princess Peach.” I looked down at my shorts and tank top, and caught the ends of my multicolored brown hair courtesy of careful instruction to Ginny. “Because of my beautiful pink gown and blonde hair?” Dallas’s mouth went flat. “She’s surrounded by men, but she’s still herself, and she’s got her shit together on Mario Kart.

An interesting fact about the goddess of knowledge is that she knows everything that anyone in this world knows, including me. Which means she knows a bunch of Mario Kart shortcuts, which is kind of awesome.

Did you learn to drive—by playing Mario Kart—” “I’ve never put a Mario in a cart and I never will.

Vozač je rekao djedu koliko koštaju karte i dok je djed vrlo pažljivo prebrojavao novac - jer je svjetlo u autobusu bilo preslabo - vozač se okrenuo prema putnicima, digao desnu ruku i rekao: „How!“ i prasnuo u smijeh, i svi su prasnuli u smijeh. Tada sam se počeo bolje osjećati znajući da su prijateljski nastrojeni i ne zamjeraju nam što nismo imali vozne karte. Onda smo pošli prema stražnjem dijelu autobusa i tamo sam vidio jednu bolesnu ženu. Oko očiju joj je bilo neprirodno crnilo, a usne su joj bile jarko crvene kao od krvi. Kad smo prošli pokraj nje, stavila je ruku iznad usta i zavrištala: „Wa...huuu!“ Ali sigurno ju je ubrzo prestalo boljeti jer se počela smijati i svi ostali su se smijali. Čovjek koji je sjedio pokraj nje se također smijao i pritom se lupao po nozi. Imao je veliku sjajnu kopču na kravati pa sam znao da su oni bogati i mogu platiti liječnika ako im je potreban.

Koje god da ti karte život podijeli, u ruci uvijek imaš glavni adut: svoju slobodnu volju.

All you need to know about racing you can learn from Super Mario Kart.

Bye, Arlo! If you don't call me tonight, I'll just assume you've been murdered, shear off all my hair in mourning, and write lengthy poetry immortalizing that one time you beat me at Mario Kart.

Ne upravlja se životom kao brodom. Čovek ne može samo gledati u kompas i karte; ploviti po unapred utvrđenim rutama; uspostaviti ugodnost kao jedini postulat putovanja i očekivati da tako, osiguran od opasnosti i neprijatnih iznenađenja, od poraza i promašaja, pronađe rajsku obalu. Uzbuđenje nastaje u hodu. Samo uznemirena čula prepoznaju lepotu.

... E ku thuhene ne karte, fjalet e gjuhes se zjarrte!

Turgut, sıkıntılı olduğu zamanlar sorulara cevap vermez, bu kartlardan birini uzatırdı: Daha gelmedi Bir de kantine bak Bugün yeni fıkra yok Ben ne bileyim ulan (en çok kullanılan kart)

LJUBAV. To nikako ne mogu objasniti. Kako objasniti zašto volim prirodu u svim njenim oblicima? Ne samo sezonski, nego i ljeto i zimu i sunce i kišu i snijeg. Mogu li se dva partnera voljeti ako ne znaju svoje 'ružne strane'? Ako se neka osoba voli samo u njenom dobrom svjetlu, je li ljubav potpuna, je li prava? Je li to uopće ljubav? I tako svi ... Svi vole samo sunčano vrijeme, a kada je ružno zatvaraju se u svoja skloništa. Čovjekov iskustveni raspon temperature je 20°C. Od +10°C do +30°C. Sve više ili manje je neudobno. Pa, jesam li onda ja, koji hodam po kiši bos i uživam, lud? Jesam li lud kad vičem niz vjetar koji je toliko jak da se mogu nasloniti na njega? Kada silazim niz snježnu planinu, proklizavam i padam jer ne vidim prst pred sobom, a smijem se i istovremeno divim njenoj moći i svojoj neustrašivosti - jesam li lud? Vjerojatno jesam, ali ja samo igram iskreno, uživam u igri i takve karte dobivam.

Tanrı zar atmaz. O kainat ile kendi tasarladığı, tarifi imkansız bir oyunu oynar. Diğer oyuncuların (Herkes) gözünden bakıldığında bu, karanlık bir odada, kuralları söylemeyen ve sürekli gülümseyen bir kart dağıtıcısının dağıttığı boş kartlarla oynanan, sonsuz risklere girilen, anlaşılması imkansız ve ne olduğu bilinmeyen bir poker oyununa benzer...

Ne bojim se, da bi zbolel. Česa pa potem? Bojim se, kaj vse bi se lahko spremenilo. Bojim se spoznanja, da so temelji civilizacije, kakršno poznam, kot hišica iz kart. Bojim se izničenja, pa tudi njegovega nasprotja: tega, da bi strah minil, ne da bi nas spodbudil k spremembam.

Get sleep....get sharp!!

Księgi zaś Twoje, mimo złote wargi Kart z pargaminu, i Twoje dzienniczki Z elektrycznymi okrzyki lub skargi Gasną, jak ckliwe o południu świéczki

You don’t always get the waterfall shortcut in Mario Kart. That’s life.

God Please now my future see make it clear where I should be. Open the window close the doors not my will my God but yours - Kart Hart- Fame by Karen Kingsbury

Tum daulat ki Kya baat karte ho Maine gareeb ko aksar pur sukoon dekha hai

He had his DS balanced on his blue-jeaned knees and was poking away at it industriously with the stylus. “Score,” he said as she came up the steps. “I’m kicking butt at Mario Kart.” Clary

Kart destesini aldı. "Devam edelim mi? Altıncı elin şanslı olduğunu duymuştum." Gözlerimi devirdim. "Cehennem buz tuttuğunda belki kazanırsın." Bir kaşını kaldırdı. "Sanırım bunu ayarlayabilirim.

İkimiz de güldük. "Sally" dedim, "senin sevdiğim yanın ne biliyor musun? Bu kadar kolayca kandırılabilmen. Hiç kandırılamayan insanlar öylesine can sıkıcı ve ruhsuz oluyorlar ki!" "Beni hâlâ seviyor musun, Chris, sevgilim?" "Evet, Sally. Seni hâlâ seviyorum." Onu bir daha görmedim. Yaklaşık iki hafta sonra, tam onu aramam gerektiğini düşündüğüm bir sırada, Paris'ten bir kart aldım: "Buraya dün gece geldim. Yarın doğru dürüst yazarım. Kucak dolusu sevgiler." Arkadan mektup gelmedi. Bundan bir ay sonra Roma'dan bir kart daha aldım. Adres yoktu: "Bir iki güne kadar yazarım." diyordu. Bu altı yıl önceydi. Şimdi ben ona yazıyorum. Sally, bunu okuduğun zaman -eğer bir gün okuyacak olursan- lütfen bunu bir takdirname- sana verebileceğim en yürekten takdirname olarak kabul et...

Mnogima bi se svidjela da se nisi trudila svidjeti se svima. Znaš, ne treba meni objašnjenje za moj trud, često sam se trudila i na kraju izašla praznih ruku. Pa šta? Ne kajem se. I da mogu ne bi vratila vrijeme, čemu? Meni je dovoljno da se utopim u čaši uspomena. Da nazdravim onima koji su putovali sa mnom, a da to nisu niti znali, da im zahvalim, i da im poželim sreću na njihovom sljedećem putovanju. Kamo – a tko to od nas uopće zna? Kada jednom shvatiš da si zalutao, kao ja, bez karte i cilja, među te ledom optočene zidine od ljudi nema ti druge nego krčiti svoj vlastiti – zid. Jer, teško da ćeš se zagrijati na tim. Zidovima od ljudi.

It's one of the things I love about motorsports - you're always learning, always having to adapt. It's not like tennis, where the rackets might change a bit but everything else stays the same. If you're in motorsport, the formulas are always changing. The regulations, the tyres, the power, the type of engine. It keeps you excited.

It's one of the things I love about motorsports - you're always learning, always having to adapt and develop. It's not like tennis, where the rackets might change a bit but everything else stays the same. If you're in motorsport, the formulas are always changing. The regulations, the tyres, the power, the type of engine. It keeps you excited.

Formula One drivers were like gods to me, growing up.

The sound of that V10, a rich growl that reached right into my soul.

Archeolog, tak jak saper, myli się tylko raz. Jak coś wykopie i zapomni to narysować, sfotografować, opisać w dzienniku wykopaliskowym i jeszcze wypełnić rubryki wszystkich kart, których jest więcej niż stron w książce telefonicznej prywatnych abonentów Nowego Jorku, informacje przepadną na zawsze. Przepadnie cały kontekst. Kontekst to święta krowa archeologii...

De akármilyen gyorsan is szaladtam, az arum gyorsabb volt. Mellettem, aztán előttem jelent meg a sötét, sáros árnyék. Havon és jégen csúszva az obszidiánomért nyúltam, készen rá, hogy a hegyét beledöfjem az arumba, mindegy, hogy hol. Már várta a mozdulatot. Kart formált magának, és gyomron vágott vele. Az ütés ereje a levegőbe lökött, aztán az oldalamra zuhantam. Éles fájdalom vágott a csontjaimba. Hanyatt fordultam, kipislogtam a havat a szememből. Már értettem, miért tiltakozott Daemon olyan hevesen az ellen, hogy én is arumokra vadásszak. Éppen most nyomtak le, és a harc még el sem kezdődött. A vészjósló árnyék ismét megjelent mellettem. Már nem viselt emberi formát: amikor megszólalt a hangja gonosz mormolásként hatolt a gondolataim közé. Te nem luxsszen vagy, de azért ssspeciálisss. Miféle erőkkel bírsssz?

Bırakıp gittin beni bütün kapılardan. Bütün çöllerde tek başıma kodun beni. Şafakta arayıp öğle vakti yitirdiğim Vardığım hiçbir yerde değildin. Sensiz bir odanın sahrasını nasıl anlatsam ! Hiçbir şeyin seni andırmadığı bir pazar kalabalığını, Denizde dalga kıranda da boş boşluğunu bir günün, Seslenip de senden cevap alamadığım sessizliği.. Bırakıp gittin beni kalarak olduğun yerde hareketsiz Her yerde bırakıp gittin beni gözlerinle Düşlerin yüreğiyle bırakıp gittin beni. Yarım kalmış bir cümle gibi bırakıp gittin, Gelişigüzel bir nesne, bir "şey", bir iskemle gibi, Yazla birlikte biten bir kısa tatil, Çekmecede bir kart gibi bırakıp gittin. Senden düşen hep ben oldum en küçük kımıldanışında. Başını çevirdiğin için ağladığımı görmedin hiç Bana bakıp görmediğin için, Ben yokken içini çektiğin için. Ayağına düşen gölgene acıdın mı sen hiç ?

Zahvalio sam publici na dolasku, izbacio par štosova, a onda rekao: - U slučaju da je netko od vas došao bez poznavanja cijele priče, spomenut ću vam savjet mog oca. On je uvijek govorio da valja predstaviti slona ukoliko se nalazi u sobi. Ako pogledate moje CT snimke, vidjet ćete da u jetri imam otprilike deset tumora. Liječnici kažu da mogu živjeti relativno zdravo još tri do šest mjeseci. To su rekli prije mjesec dana pa sad možete i sami izračunati. Na ekranu sam pokazao veliku CT snimku moje jetre. Is-pod slajda je pisalo »Slon u sobi«, a ja sam još dodao crvene strelice koje su pokazivale svaki pojedinačni tumor. Zadržao sam sliku neko vrijeme da publika može uočiti strelice i prebrojiti tumore. - U redu - rekao sam. -Tako je kako jest. Tu se ne da ništa promijeniti. Jedino što možemo je izabrati način reakcije. Ne možemo promijeniti karte koje smo dobili, već samo odlučiti kako ćemo igrati.

At our annual March Madness Mario Kart Tournament---along with the twins and Javy, Maggie and Juliet---when Lou's Toadette nearly upset the top-seeded Yoshi in the second round but got blasted by a blue shell right before the finish line, and Lou started swearing and couldn't stop. Farfar couldn't stop grinning, his hands folded behind his head, the rest of us crying from laughter. (I was in seventh grade when I realized March Madness had anything do with basketball.)

Man charakterisiert eine Geschichte am besten dadurch, dass man sie erzählt. Verstehen Sie? Eine Erzählung beschreiben, sich selbst oder der Welt, das macht man, indem man sie erzählt. Es ist ein Balanceakt, aber auch etwas Traumartiges. Die genaueste Karte, die sich denken lässt, wäre die Landschaft selbst, die jene verzeichnet; sie wäre daher vollkommen genau, aber auch vollkommen nutzlos. Die Erzählung ist die Karte, die die Landschaft ist. Das sollte man im Auge behalten.

Złóż głowę — śpiącą, kochaną, Ludzką — na moim ramieniu Niewiernym; w myślących dzieciach Czas trawi śpiesznym płomieniem Urodę, każdemu z nich daną Inaczej, i zżera je lękiem; Ale ja chcę do świtu w objęciach Mieć to żywe stworzenie, pełne Winy, niestałe, śmiertelne, Lecz dla mnie skończenie piękne. Bez granic jest dusza i ciało: Kochankom, kiedy w omdleniu Conocnym leża pod okiem Łagodnej planety Wenus, Jej blask śle wizje nietrwałe Wszechwładnej miłości, obrazy Nadziei wiecznie wysokiej; Sny, w abstrakcyjnej wersji Budzące i w chudej piersi Pustelnika zmysłowe ekstazy. Pewność, wierność nie trwa nawet Doby — zgaśnie przed północą Jak cichnący dzwonu głos, Znów modni maniacy wzniosą Swoją pedantyczną wrzawę I wróżba z kart nas postraszy: Trzeba spłacić każdy grosz Kosztów, długów i rachunków; Lecz skarb nocnych pocałunków Wartości rankiem nie straci. Piękność, północ, przywidzenia — Wszystko niknie; niech wiatr brzasku Nad twą głową, która śni, Zbudzi dzień tak pełen blasku, By wzrok i puls śpiewał pean Światu, który pędzi w śmierć; Znajdziesz i w pustyni dni Mannę mimowolnych mocy, Znajdziesz i w zniewadze nocy Miłość wszystkich ludzkich serc.

Eskiçağ dünyasının bilimini çok aştık. Fakat bilim tarihine ilişkin bilgilerimizde büyük boşluklar var. Bunları doldurmak olanaksız. Günümüzde bir kitaplık okuyucusunun hangi kitabı okuduğunu gösteren kart gibi o zamanki bir kart elimize geçse kim bilir ne bilgiler edinebilir? Biliyoruz ki, Berossus adında Babilli bir rahibin yazdığı üç ciltlik "Dünya Tarihi" kayıptır. Bu kitabın ilk cildinin dünyanın yaratılışından Tufan'a kadar uzanan dönemi içerdiği sanılıyor. Sözü geçen kitapta yazar, bu dönemi 432.000 yıl olarak belirttiğine göre, Tevrat kronolojisinin yüz katı bir zamanı kapsıyor demektir. Merak ederim, acaba o kitapta ne vardı?...

A moth is such a simple machine in the animal world - the go-kart to the modern car - and it takes a lot of glitches to prevent it going. It's this intriguing simplicity, the idea that you could pull it into its constituent parts and put it back together in the same rainy day, that if you pulled back the skin, you could watch the inner workings, that makes a moth such an absorbing creature to study. Moths have a universal character: there are no individuals. Each reacts to a precise condition or stimulus in a predictable and replicable way. They are pre-programmed robots, unable to learn from experience. For instance, we know they will allways react to a smell, a pheromone or a particular spectrum of light in the same way. I can mimic the scent of a flower so that a moth will direct itself towards that scent ...

Mellettem, aztán előttem jelent meg a sötét, sáros árnyék. Havon és jégen csúszva az obszidiánomért nyúltam, készen rá, hogy a hegyét beledöfjem az arumba, mindegy, hogy hol. Már várta a mozdulatot. Kart formált magának, és gyomron vágott vele. Felemelkedtem, aztán az oldalamra zuhantam. Éles fájdalom vágott a csontjaimba. Hanyatt fordultam, kipislogtam a havat a szememből. Már értettem, miért tiltakozott Daemon olyan hevesen az ellen, hogy én is arumokra vadásszak. Éppen most nyomtak le, és a harc még el sem kezdődött. A vészjósló árnyék ismét megjelent mellettem. Már nem viselt emberi formát: amikor megszólalt a hangja gonosz mormolásként hatolt a gondolataim közé. Te nem luxsszen vagy, de azért ssspeciálisss. Miféle erőkkel bírsssz? Erők? Amiket Daemon adott át, amikor megváltoztatott. Az arum most megöl, és elveszi ezeket.

Mikor még Aztán még sokáig úgy csináltunk, mintha mi se történt volna, hisz mit is tehetnénk: a reggel indul, az ég néha tényleg égkék, a gyerek reménye, jövője meg végképp mindenekfelett. Hisz valóban mennyivel jobb a jót, a szépet látni, jaj, mennyire sokkal jobb, mint nézni, ami van, a romot, a vállból kiszakadt kart, medencéből lábat, ahogy elgurul. Hisz a béke is mindig túlél kicsit, mikor már háború van – hát örültünk, éltünk, fölénézve, nem akartuk egybetenni, amit – ki vádolhat minket emiatt? De aztán elakad a víz a csapban, az utca sincs többé, csak kőporfüst, ahol addig az orvosi rendelő, és nem kenyér vagy tej, de vér se már, ami a gyerek ereiből elfolytat pótolná, és egy nap több összetákolt bárka se indul a másik part felé, ahol még addig bizton sejthettünk élhető létet, és igen, akkor készült össze mindez, mikor még úgy csináltunk, mintha.

Lisičje prokletstvo leži u tome da nije voljena. Lisica nema veliku snagu da bismo je se bojali i pokorili se, ni pak napadnu ljepotu da bismo pred njom ostajali bez daha. Kako, uostalom, voljeti nekoga tko mijenja svoja lica i svoju narav, nekoga tko je čas privrženo, čas spreman da nas proda budzašto, nekoga za koga, uostalom, nismo sigurni pripada li svijetu mrtvih ili svijetu živih? Lisica ne pripada ni zvijerima, ni nama, ljudima, niti pak božanstvima. Ona je vječiti slijepi putnik, migrantica koja s lakoćom prolazi kroz svjetove, a kada je uhvate bez putne karte, onda repom vrti kuglice, izvodi svoje jeftine majstorije. Taj trenutak divljenja koji načas dobiva ona kratkovidno (O, lisičja slabosti!) zamjenjuje za ljubav. To su njezini trenuci slave. Sve drugo je povijest straha, bjekstva pred lovčevim mecima, neprestano lajanje lovačkih pasa; povijest progona, batina, lizanja rana, poniženja, samoće i jeftine utjehe - zvečke načinjene od kokošjih kostiju.

I left Patrick coloring in his room and darted to the living room, but then I stopped short. Because William and Sean weren’t alone. “Bryan,” I said on a gasp, drawing three sets of eyes to me. “What are you doing here?” He didn’t answer right away. His eyes were wide and surprised as he took in my appearance, trailing over my high heels, bare legs, and form-fitting silk dress. Self-consciously, I glanced at myself again, tugging on the hem. Bryan’s voice was distracted; as though he were talking to himself, he began, “Holy sh—” “You look great.” William stepped in front of his teammate and gave me a warm, if sedate, smile. I frowned at William, then at Bryan—or what I could see of him behind William—then at Sean, who was inspecting my ceiling. My frown deepened. “What’s going on?” “Oh,” Sean chirped, imbuing his tone with forced lightness, “I just thought since you were going out, Patrick, Bryan, and I could have a men’s night in. You know, go through the latest Dolce & Gabbana catalogue, play a friendly game of Mario Kart, teach Patrick how to hook in a scrum. The usual.

Do you have any ritual things you do before a race?” My dad did. He always had to wear black boxer shorts and socks. Before every race, he would also have a plain egg omelet for breakfast. I never did learn why. “Yep.” I wait, but he doesn’t expand. “Well…are you gonna tell me what it is?” Arms on the table, he leans forward. “Okay.” He lets out a breath. “I have to eat a bar of Galaxy chocolate before each race.” “Really?” I smile. “Why?” Eyes on me, he rests back in his seat, keeping his hands on the table. “After we first moved to England, I don’t know if it was the pressure or being in a different country or what, but I wasn’t winning races. I was coming in fourth at best. I was panicking because Dad had given up so much by moving us to England, and I was getting frustrated because I knew I was capable of more. “Anyway, on this particular day, I was hungry because I’d forgotten to eat, and my dad was all, ‘You will lose this race on an empty stomach.’ So, he went off to get me something to eat. Anyway, he came back, telling me there was only this shitty vending machine. Then, he held out a bar of Galaxy chocolate, and I was like, ‘What the hell is that? I’m not eating that. It’s women’s chocolate. Men don’t eat Galaxy. They eat Yorkie.’ You remember the adverts?” “I do.” I laugh, loving the way he’s telling the story. He’s so animated with his eyes all lit up. “So, my dad got pissed off and said, ‘Well, they haven’t got any men’s chocolate, so eat the bloody women’s chocolate, and shut the hell up!’” I snort out a laugh. “So, what did you do?” “Sulked for about a minute, and then I ate the fucking bar of Galaxy, and it was the best chocolate I’d ever tasted—not that I admitted that to my dad at the time. Then, I got in my kart and won my first ever race in England.” He smiles fondly, and I can see the memory in his eyes. “And since then, before every race, my dad buys me a bar of Galaxy from a vending machine, and I eat it. It’s my one weird thing.” “But what if there isn’t any Galaxy chocolate in a vending machine? Or worse, there isn’t a vending machine?” He leans forward, a sexy-arse smile on his face. “There’s always a vending machine, Andressa, and there’s always a bar of Galaxy in it.” “Ah.” The power of being Carrick Ryan.

WHEN YOU CROW UP IN KANSAS WEARING VERY LARGE SHORTS, thinking not very much of yourself, thinking mainly of your knees, looking mainly at your knees, your face a frisbee that cant fly, your teeth buck, your eyebrows rectangles, your forehead more than half of your face, your shirts shapeless, your shape shapeless, your Kansas shapeless, your lust absent, your legs bowed, your arches flat, your chest flat, your ears your only curves, your ears never pierced, your denim never dazzled, your sneakers white, your socks white, your teeth turquoise with rubber bands, your cheese orange, your milk whole, your bread wonder, your luxury a tuna casserole, your pale a neon pale, your fantasy to race a Mario Kart over the desert and into the final oasis, your earthly oasis a salted pretzel, your solitude total, your urges not even visible to you on the clearest days at the farthest horizons, your blank magnificent, your inertia wild and authentic, your nothing your preference, and then into it somebody walks, a Joan, this sudden hero can really take control. You’re susceptible first to idolatry, then to study, to apprenticeship, and finally to a kind of patient love that makes fun of itself and believes in itself without limit. Imagine being a pudding cup of a person and encountering a confident, elegant, powerful scholar who knows what to do with her shoulders. Imagine encountering you.

I love you, I love you very very much naina mein aankhein band karti hun to tumhain dekhti hun aankhe kholti hun to tumhain dekhna chahti hun tum paas nahi hote to tumhain chaarun taraf mehsoos karti hun har pal har ghadi har waqt merre naina tumhi ko doondate hain isse pyar kaho paagalpan ya mere dil ki dhadkan mere liye ek hi baat hai pyar to bahut log karte hain lekin mere jaisa pyar koi nahi kar sakta kyonki kisi ke paas tum jo nahi ho mein tumhain bhool nahi sakti mein tumhain bhoolna hi nahi chahti tum mere ho, mein tumhain zindagi bhar pyar karungi marte dam tak pyar karungi aur us k baad bhi...

I wanted to debate this further but I held back—mostly because he was driving as if we were in a go-kart and he’d eaten a special mushroom giving him infinite lives.

Baatein hain kuch jo ankahi reh gayi hain, Tumhari humari yaadon ki gehraiyon mein, Iss dil ki aarzoo abhi adhuri reh gayi hai, Rukna tum vahin jahan mila karte the hum, Kyunki raaste mein humari parchaiyaan reh gayi hain, Tumhare bina zindgi kaisi hogi kuch pta nahi, Abhi jeene mein kuch kamiyaan reh gayi hain!

Täglich wartete ich auf ein Zeichen von Liz, auf einen erklärenden Brief, eine Karte oder einen Anruf. Wie ein Schiffbrüchiger, der unermüdlich an den Knöpfen eines Funkgeräts dreht, in der Hoffnung, endlich auf eine Stimme zu stoßen. Doch alles, was von meiner Schwester kam, war jahreslanges Rauschen.

—Abuela, ¿cómo puede haber gente tan mala?  Ese Kart está loco. —Lo peor es que seguramente no esté loco. Mira, el mal es algo que está dentro del corazón del ser humano. —Sí, pero no todos vamos matando gente por ahí. —Eso es cierto, pero lo que es seguro  es que todos necesitamos que Dios cambie nuestro corazón; sin su ayuda no podemos hacer nada.

My fantasy’s interrupted by some uppity-ass eight-year-old who thinks it would be funny to try to run me off the track by driving right into my kart from behind. I regain control of my vehicle, slow down and let him pass me. I then suddenly speed up after a few feet of meandering and ram straight into him from the right-hand side, making him drive into the tires. Whiplash, bitch! He screams at me all red-faced as I pass him. Not saying anything, just screaming. Prick.

Unless your game is a just-for-fun simulation such as Super Mario Kart or Beetle Adventure Racing!, vehicle simulation is the most technologically oriented of games, so the core mechanics of the game are almost entirely about physics.

—Die letzte Karte spielt der Tod. —¿La última carta la juega la Muerte?

Farfar had the Wii already fired up when I stepped out of the bathroom from my shower, the menu music from Mario Kart blaring from the living room TV. Koopa---the cat, not the character---was curled up on Farfar's lap in his spot at the end of the couch. One hand held his beer on top of his stomach, the other ran through Koopa's gray fur, both of their eyes closed in bliss. I sank into the other end of the couch and grabbed my controller. "All cleaned up and ready for your whooping?" he asked, pronouncing it, like always, with long OOs, like the crane. He raised his beer to his lips with his eyes still closed. This was probably number two already. "Not tonight, old man. I'm in the zone, and you're looking tired." His eyes were open then, a smirk on his face, and he produced his special blue remote---the best Lillajul gifts I'd ever gotten him---from the cushion beside him. "Do you need to ease in with Mushroom Gorge, or are you ready to play for real?" "I'm ready for any course you want," I said, smirking back. He just chuckled---without the jollity he gave the guys outside C of C, I noticed---went straight to Rainbow Road, and promptly destroyed me. Afterward, sinking back into the couch with a third beer and a number of victories under his belt, he let out a long sigh. "You did good today, Gubben." I smiled. "I'm picking a new character.

Have we discussed the birds and the bees, Gubben?" Farfar said, just as we started our third lap on Wario's Gold Mine, the one track I hated almost as much as Rainbow Road. "Uh... I'm pretty sure that was covered in online health." I launched my red shell, which he deftly blocked with the banana peel he'd been holding on to. I finished fourth after getting hit by a stupid ricocheting green shell, Farfar's Yoshi already halfway through its victory lap.

I wonder if maybe Farfar's heaven would be steering his own kart, inside the game, his gray ponytail slowly flapping in the lessened gravity of Rainbow Road, cackling as a smiling puff-cloud fishes him out of the abyss after he goes sailing over the guardrails. I'd wave as I pass, careful as always, decelerating my standard kart around the sharp turns, just waiting for him to come barreling past me yet again.

Die 베가스카지노 Gewinntabelle enthält neun zahlende Symbole. Die niedrigen Löhne beinhalten die Karte Royals J-A, während die Prämien in verschiedenen Formen und Farben. Ein großer Diamanten repräsentiert das am höchsten bezahlte Symbol. Es gibt mehr als 13x den Einsatz eines Spielers für eine Gewinnkombination von fünf derartigen. Es sei auch darauf hingewiesen, 베가스카지노 dass alle Symbole, außer der großen Diamanten, drei für eine Auszahlung erfordern. Dieses letztere Symbol benötigt nur zwei, um eine Gewinnkombination zu machen. Andere Symbole, die Spieler beim Spielen treffen werden, sind ein schöner 베가스카지노 Stern, ein Wild, der alle anderen Symbole außer dem Bonussymbol ersetzt, und schließlich das Euphoria-Bonus-Symbol selbst. website homepage : lucysworks.com

A wing on a Formula One car operates like the wing on an aero-plane except in reverse. So whereas the aircraft wing generates life, the wing on a car does the opposite, pushing the car down to the surface.

What is the Wii U, Gubben?" Farfar said, unable to keep the grin off his face as he balled the wrapping paper in his hands and stared at the box in his lap. "Don't we already have a Wii?" Then, more concerned, "How much did you spend on this?" "Not too much," I said, grinning back. "It's refurbished." "And old," Jorge added helpfully. "And old. Nintendo's already moved on to newer systems. Plus," I said, tossing a second present onto Farfar's lap and picking up his blue Wii remote from the coffee table, strumming the rubber bands holding the battery cover in place with my thumb. "This system's backward compatible." I watched Farfar peel back the paper one his unauthorized second present and nod to himself. He let out a sound like a deeply satisfied bear. "Oh, god," Maggie said, laughing. "Let's hook it up, Gubben." "They released a deluxe edition for the newer system," I explained, leading to our lengthy, highly technical discussion of Mario Kart 8 for Wii U vs. 8 Deluxe for the Switch, while I hooked up the new system to the TV

Fine. Call me when you get home?” “So clingy. We need to find you a significant other. Or a cat.” “I do like cats. I’d also like you to call me.” “Oh, look, there’s my dad,” said Arlo with some exaggeration. She waved at an oncoming car as it slowed to a stop bedside them. Bye, Cel. Thanks for walking me from school.” “Bye, Arlo! If you don't call me tonight, I'll just assume you've been murdered, shear off all my hair in mourning, and write lengthy poetry immortalizing that one time you beat me at Mario Kart.

Pehle log 'yaad' keliye photo khichaaya karte the.. Aaj kal FB pe upload karne ke liye 'yaad se' kheechate hai ;)

Okay, Gubben, this time you have to pick your least-favorite character with your least-favorite vehicle." I picked Peach, to which he raised his eyebrows. "You hate Peach, Gubben? Seems a little...misogynistic." "What are you talking about? Princess Peach is a horrible representation of women---how many times does she wait for Mario to save her?" I realized I sounded a little like Lou. You know, if Lou's rants ever extended into classic Nintendo characters. Farfar picked Toad. "Seems a little... mycogynistic, doesn't it?" He just chuckled. "Stupid mushrooms." I picked the Super Blooper for Peach, Farfar picked the Booster Seat for Toad, and we spent the next hour laughing and yelling disparaging things at the screen.

Dear Casey, Thanks heaps for writing again. It’s really cool to get letters from you in the mail, and it’s awesome to hear what you’ve been doing. Maybe next year, we can both go to the same camp together. That’d be fun, don’t you think! Mike and I have been keeping busy. Riding motorbikes on his property is the best thing ever! You said you like go-karting, so I think you’d love motorbike riding too.

Q tries to demonstrate how it works, but seeing as it requires the lightest of touches to operate it and he has a pair of spam mountains for hands, his attempt doesn’t go very well, so Bond takes over and is immediately able to drive it perfectly, like my kids playing Mario Kart.

Şimdi biz neyiz biliyor musun? Akıp giden zamana göz kırpan yorgun yıldızlar gibiyiz. Birbirine uzanamayan Boşlukta iki yalnız yıldız gibi Acı çekiyor ve kendimize gömülüyoruz Bir zaman sonra batık bir aşktan geriye kalan iki enkaz olacağız yalnızca Kendi denizlerimizde sessiz sedasız boğulacağız Ne kalacak bizden? bir mektup, bir kart, birkaç satır ve benim şu kırık dökük şiirim Sessizce alacak yerini nesnelerin dünyasında Ne kalacak geriye savrulmuş günlerimizden Bizden diyorum, ikimizden Ne kalacak? Şimdi biz neyiz biliyor musun? Yıkıntılar arasında yakınlarını arayan öksüz savaş çocukları gibiyiz. Umut ve korkunun hiçbir anlam taşımadığı bir dünyada bir şey bulduğunda neyi, ne yapacağını bilemeyen çocuklar gibi. Artık hiçbir duygusunu anlayamayan çocuklar gibi Ve elbet biz de bu aşkta büyüyecek Her şeyi bir başka aşka erteleyeceğiz

air will remunerate you with heaps of focuses. The more you remain noticeable all around when coasting, the more focuses will go into the bank. Likewise,

apne jalne me.n kisii ko nahii.n karte hai.n shariik raat ho jaa.e to ham sham.a bujhaa dete hai.nThe poet/lover takes pride in his self-control and says that he does not like to share his agony. When the pain of loneliness burns him in the desolate nights, he extinguishes the candle.

Er nickt und nimmt nur ganz sachte den heftigen Regen wahr, der seine Stirn hinunter läuft, über seine Wange, das Kinn – es kümmert ihn nicht. Alles was er ist, fühlt und sieht, ist Loreen. Regentropfen laufen in Rinnsalen ihr Gesicht hinunter, benetzen ihre Haut wie eine komplizierte Karte, die er am liebsten studieren möchte. (Slash)

Ein kleines Dorf, das in keiner halbwegs vernünftigen Karte auch nur verzeichnet war.

Aey mauj-e-bala unko bhi zara do char thapede halke se Kuchh log abhi tak sahil se toofan ka nazara karte hain (Loosely translated, the couplet means: O wave of calamity, strike those lightly who even now merely watch the storm from the safety of the shore.)

The Blue Shell is the cruel tax of gaming, the welfare queen of kart racing. God damn you kids today. We used to have to win a race to win it.

BELA NOĆ! Ako nedeljom uveče umesto reprize Srećnih ljudi stružem po plafonu opljačkane ludnice ako za večeru progutam senku sijalice ili namažem na hleb ono što je ostalo između nožnih prstiju čekajući gromove na Sinđelićevom trgu da skinu me do pojasa da promaše i udare u petočlanu porodicu bez plafona ////////////////// tako je uvek i bilo na omiljenoj slomljenoj klupi probudim se u ponoć dvoumim se sat vremena pokupim te u pola dva ujutru usput nekoliko praznih ambalaža i betonskih jastuka sa Filmskih susreta ruku pod ruku stisnem te istresem te kao poslednji gutljaj ispred zatvorene trafike i 7 dana u sobi bez vazduha, jeftina isparenja bez komšiluka, bez drugog dnevnika, kurve iz hodnika bez dinara, praznika, kontrole, konduktera 7 dana bez signala i propuštenih poziva samo fijuk ventilatora morska so u bojleru i upaljena ringla u mraku ////////////// 7 dana dok nas ne probudi sirena za prestanak opasnosti repriza Boljeg života i krkljanje Srećnih ljudi /////////////////////// okolo proleću bestseleri sigurnosni pojasevi, ležeći policajci okolo vetar gura kamion za pranje ulice liže poklopce nagradne igre koju šaht neće da proguta i samo se grafiti guraju u liftu dok poplava diže katance iz podruma na osmi sprat, slušajući kako udaraju nezatvoreni prozori kako padaju mesečne kartice cegeri, štipaljke i kineske lutke pod muzikom crnih ptica proleću sniženja iz mesare SNS članske karte nasmejani posteri, prekrštene ruke kuponi narodne kuhinje pod muzikom crnih ptica na omiljenoj slomljenoj klupi gledam kako seva iza brda bela noć čupa granje RTS-a prašina i lišće u hodnicima ugašenog televizora (počinje prava vremenska prognoza) //////////////// oohh, kako volim ponoć u sobi bez vazduha apokaliptične uspavanke oohhhhh dolaze, kao krv crveni brutalni anđeli, paganski anđeli jeftino pivo, žestina, jeftina isparenja nebeskih kontejnera... u sobi bez vazduha draga

Jo usne kaha go wahi karte gaye ham to Is par bhi nigahon se utarte gaye ham to

Irshad Malik, the Kashmiri militant now in London (who Firdous had wanted me to bring back to India when I was at R&AW), once said to me about PoK: ‘Uss taraf kya hai? Pakistan mein kya hai? Aap kyon fiqar karte hain? Inko jaane dijiye, paar dekhne dijiye, udhar kuchh bhi nahin hain.’ He said that Srinagar airport—and he obviously hadn’t been to Srinagar airport in at least twenty-four years—was better than any Pakistani airport. Hotels in Kashmir are as good as any in the world. ‘They have nothing there,’ he said. You should publicise these facts, he said to me: ‘Aapko toh film banani chahiye.

We stalked carefully through the park in best paramilitary fashion, the lost patrol on its mission into the land of the B movie. To Deborah’s credit, she was very careful. She moved stealthily from one piece of cover to the next, frequently looking right to Chutsky and then left at me. It was getting harder to see her, since the sun had now definitely set, but at least that meant it was harder for them to see us, too—whoever them might turn out to be. We leapfrogged through the first part of the park like this, past the ancient souvenir stand, and then I came up to the first of the rides, an old merry-go-round. It had fallen off its spindle and lay there leaning to one side. It was battered and faded and somebody had chopped the heads off the horses and spray-painted the whole thing in Day-Glo green and orange, and it was one of the saddest things I had ever seen. I circled around it carefully, holding my gun ready, and peering behind everything large enough to hide a cannibal. At the far side of the merry-go-round I looked to my right. In the growing darkness I could barely make out Debs. She had moved up into the shadow of one of the large posts that held up the cable car line that ran from one side of the park to the other. I couldn’t see Chutsky at all; where he should have been there was a row of crumbling playhouses that fringed a go-kart track. I hoped he was there, being watchful and dangerous. If anything did jump out and yell boo at us, I wanted him ready with his assault rifle. But there was no sign of him, and even as I watched, Deborah began to move forward again, deeper into the dark park. A warm, light wind blew over me and I smelled the Miami night: a distant tang of salt on the edge of rotting vegetation and automobile exhaust. But even as I inhaled the familiar smell, I felt the hairs go up on the back of my neck and a soft whisper came up at me from the lowest dungeon of Castle Dexter, and a rustle of leather wings rattled softly on the ramparts. It was a very clear notice that something was not right here and this would be a great time to be somewhere else; I froze there by the headless horses, looking for whatever had set off the Passenger’s alarm. I saw and heard nothing. Deborah had vanished into the darkness and nothing moved anywhere, except a plastic shopping bag blowing by in the gentle wind. My stomach turned over, and for once it was not from hunger. My

Sex is a lot like Mario Kart. You go really fast, you throw some bananas, Wario is there.

Jeigu vienas kart vienas yra vienas, tai ir dukart du turi būti du. Protauti reikia logiškai.

Eğer elinizde kazanacak kağıtlar varsa oyunu dürüst oynarsınız.

race kart can do simply boggles the mind. Whether

boggles the mind. Whether

Den historia jag nu ska försöka berätta utspelar sig i Stockholmsförorten Tyresö sommaren 2011. Det var en sällsamt varm och solig sommar, blåbären hade redan mognat i skogen när det varslades död. Först om det fruktansvärda i Norge, alla unga liv som släcktes, vettlöst. Sedan från huset i Camden Town, en kropp så liten och späd att den knappt gick att urskilja under det vita lakanet på båren. Mina tårar torkade inte av sig själva. Och så ... det andra. Medan blåbären fortfarande var sura kart i skogarna som omgav våra hem, med bläcket i studentmössorna färskt – alla dem vi ägnat tre, sex, nio, tolv år åt att gömma oss för som nu skrev BFF och Vi ses snart igen i våra mössor, var det champagnen som talade? – inträffade ett par försvinnanden. Det började med chihuahuan Honey som försvann från Farmarstigen under våren och resulterade i en outsinlig ström av lappar och, så småningom, en artikel i lokaltidningen. För varje vecka som gick skruvades tonläget i lapparna upp. Man hade en uppdatering, Honey hade tidigare samma vecka setts i närområdet. Honey levde! Till sist var Zeb och jag övertygade om att alltsammans var en konstinstallation av något slag, för lapparna bara fortsatte och fortsatte, ett alldeles eget narrativ växte fram i de kopierade lapparna med pixliga foton på en liten förskrämd hund. Fanns hon ens? Jag började skriva på en novell som aldrig blev klar om en ensam kvinna och hennes försvunna hund, som eventuellt aldrig funnits utanför kvinnans fantasi. Sedan hittade jag Elsie Johanssons roman Kvinnan som mötte en hund i mammas bokhylla och lät alltsammans bero. Alla berättelser jag försökt skriva, som fallit i glömska när jag hittat existerande verk som lyckats förmedla det jag ville skriva om med en lyskraft som jag saknat. Saknar. Skuggbiblioteken, var det trots allt där jag hörde hemma? Vem är jag att göra anspråk på den här historien? Ett par veckor efter sista Honeylappen hände något som fick alla att sluta tänka på den försvunna hunden. Lina försvann, och med henne något som aldrig skulle komma tillbaka." (Ur Orkidépojken, släpps i augusti 2017)

Dainik Bhaskar is Indian Hindi-language daily newspaper. Dainik Bhaskar subscription offers are listed here at Newspaper Kart. Subscribe today!! We at Newspaperkart help you in Converting your monthly scrap from a liability to an asset!

Ot, widzi pan, sprawa jednej litery stwarza ogromną różnicę. Ratować i uratować! Ratowaliśmy kilkadziesiąt razy więcej ludzi, niż uratowaliśmy. Przez moje ręce przeszło kilkaset dobrze zrobionych dowodów, kenkart, kart pracy, różnych dokumentów, które ułatwiały życie. Ułatwiały, ale nie gwarantowały przeżycia! Więc dla mnie jest ważne, żeby odróżniać słowo „ratować” od słowa „uratować”.

The next day we sat in Geir’s bedroom and wrote a love letter to Anne Lisbet. His parents’ house was identical to ours, it had exactly the same rooms, facing in exactly the same directions, but it was still unendingly different, because for them functionality reigned supreme, chairs were above all else comfortable to sit in, not attractive to look at, and the vacuumed, almost mathematically scrupulous, cleanliness that characterized our rooms was utterly absent in their house, with tables and the floor strewn with whatever they happened to be using at that moment. In a way, their lifestyle was integrated into the house. I suppose ours was, too, it was just that ours was different. For Geir’s father, sole control of his tools was unthinkable, quite the contrary, part of the point of how he brought up Geir and Gro was to involve them as much as possible in whatever he was doing. They had a workbench downstairs, where they hammered and planed, glued and sanded, and if we felt like making a soap-box cart, for example, or a go-kart, as we called it, he was our first port of call. Their garden wasn’t beautiful or symmetrical as ours had become after all the hours Dad had spent in it, but more haphazard, created on the functionality principle whereby the compost heap occupied a large space, despite its unappealing exterior, and likewise the stark, rather weed-like potato plants growing in a big patch behind the house where we had a ruler-straight lawn and curved beds of rhododendrons.

Minns cider sin barndom som kart?

Kart borcu ve emeklİ maaşına hacİz SORU: Banka kredi kartı borcum nedeniyle, emekli maaşıma haciz konuldu. Bankaya bu yönde bir muvafakat veya imza vermedim. Bu hacizden kurtulabilir miyim? Kemal YILDIZ - Ankara YANIT: Evet kurtulabilirsiniz. Kart borcunuzun ödenmemesi durumunda, emekli aylığınıza haciz konulması için yazılı izninizin ve rızanızın olması gerekiyor. Aksine uygulama yapıldığında, Cumhuriyet Savcılığı’na “suç duyurusunda” bulunabilirsiniz. İcra dairesine, haciz konulan maaşın emekli maaşınız olduğuna dair yazı ibraz ettiğinizde, bunu kabul etmek ve haczi kaldırmak zorundalar. Aksi halde, onlar da suç işlemiş olur ve ceza alırlar.

Die letzte Karte spielt der Tod. La última carta la juega la Muerte.

I barely touched it! This thing's a f***ing rocket-powered go-kart.

Don’t scare me like that again. You can’t get out of our Mario Kart rematch that easily.

I barely touched it! This thing's a f***ing rocket-powered g-kart.

Dhanya manuj vah, jise karm nij me rat kar leta hai, jaise priya kant premi ko, kala kalakaron ki, dhanya purush jo niruddeshya nij karm kiya karte hain, jaisa ugta surya samay par sada sirf ugne ko, is chinta mein nahin, na jane kitna tam harna hai (Blessed is the man, whom duty engrosses in itself, as the beloved does her dear lover, art its makers blessed are those, who, without fail, perform their duty, unmotivated as the sun rises on time, duty bound and does not care how much darkness it has to dispel.

Truthfully, I rage-played Mario Kart on my phone the entire way here rather than attempt to make small talk with her.

abruu na sa.nvaaraa karo kaT jaa.egii u.nglii naadaan ho talvaar se khelaa nahii.n karte The poet/lover (playfully) warns the beloved against the sharpness of her own eyebrows. She must not tend to them because this can hurt her finger.

ik tarz-e-taGaaful hai so vo un ko mubaarak ik arz-e-tamannaa hai so ham karte rahe.nge (So what if there is a way to ignore the proposals of the unfortunate poet/lover? Let beloved decide how she wants to behave. We are the lovers; we can only express our desires and so we shall.)

Suna hai... Wo aaj kal Hume bara yaad karte hai... Ab unhe humse mohobbat hai ya koi kaam... Ye toh khuda hi jaane...

...all of the answers to this thing we call life can be found in a game where a banana is your worst enemy... If you're in first place, people will be mad about it. Being in first place in Mario Kart makes you pretty vulnerable to attacks. People want to take your spot, and they'll do anything to get there.

Gene bir sis kaplamış ufuklarını, inatçı bir sis, gitgide büyüyen bir ak karanlık. Ağırlığı altında ne varsa sanki yok olup gitmiş, kalmış ortada kala kala bir tozlu yığın, o tozlu, korkunç yığına bakan göz şaşırır titrer, ilerisine gidemez. Ama sen hak ettin bu karanlık, kalın örtüyü, bu örtü tıpatıp sana uydu, ey kanlı toprak, ey zulümler meydanı, ey yaldızlı ülke, döktüğü kanla, çektirdiği acıyla çalım satan! Ey gösterişin, şatafatın beşiği ve mezarı, oldum olası imrenilen kraliçesi Doğu'nun! Ey kanlı sevgileri, kılı kıpırdamadan zevk ve safaya susamış bağrında emziren! Ey Marmara'nın mavi kucağında ölüm uykusuna dalmış diri, ey köhne Bizans, büyücü kocakarı, ey bin kocadan artakalan el değmemiş dul, gene de güzel görür, taptaze görür seni, gene de üstüne titrer sana bakan. Ne kadar tatlı, cana yakınsın, ne kadar, süzgün, mavi gözlerinle sen uzaktan! Oysa ne farkın var kirli kadınlardan senin, hiçbir şey umurunda değil, belli, ne bunca acı türkü, ne bunca kan ağlayan! Sen kurulurken katmış olmasın bir hain el senin temeline zehirli suyunu kötülüğün. İşte her yanda ikiyüzlülüğün kiri, nereye baksan çekememezlik, nereye baksan çıkarcılık, nereye baksan hergelelik, yalan dolan. Demek yükselmek yalnız bunlarla oluyor. Koynunda barınan nice yaratık arasında kaç tanesinin alnı açık, yüzü ak? Örtün, ey İstanbul, kanlı toprak, örtün, kart orospu, örtün, hiç uyanma! (...) Adamı yukarlara çıkaran yol, el etek öpme yolu. Yakınması senin yüzünden bütün öksüzlerin, dulların, arkasızların, senin yüzünden bütün, ey silahlı korku! Nasıl dokunulmaz olacak, özgür olacak şöyle bir soluk almayla kişi, söyle, ey kanun denen efsane! Ey tutulmayan sözler, sonsuz yalan! Ey mahkemelerden her gün kovulan hak! Ey kuşkunun pençesinde kıskıvrak, duygusuz, ta yüreklere dek uzanan gizli kulak, senin korkundan ağızlar sımsıkı kilitli. Seni hor görüyorlar, halkım için dökülen alınteri! Ey kalem ve kılıç, siyasi iki mahkûm, ey doğruluk ve yiğitlik, unutulmuş yüzlersiniz artık! Ey kodamanlar ve kuyrukları onların, pısırıklar, çekingenler, korkaklar sizi, nasıl da alışmışsınız iki büklüm yaşamaya, adınızın sanınızın da maşallahı var hani! Ey yere eğilmiş kafalar, ak pak, ama tiksindirici! Ey genç kadın ve ardından koşan delikanlı! Ey kahırlı ana, ey dargın karı koca! Ya sizler be çocuklar, anasız babasız, başı boş yavrucaklar, ya sizler... Örtün, ey İstanbul, kanlı toprak, örtün, kart orospu, örtün, hiç uyanma!

Noora zips through the streets of Mount Shasta. Her driving is a cross between Mario Kart and Grand Theft Auto.

Agar ap kisi se mohobat karte hain aur apki mehbooba ap se mohobat karti hai To kuch log apke saath khare honge aur kuch logon apke khilaf. Agar ap ne aur ap ki mehbooba ne sabar se kaam liya aur sirf sabar se hi kaam liya. To ap apni mohobat ko paa lenge. Aur jo log apke khilaf honge wo apke samne haar jayenge aur majbor ho jayenge

Agar ap apni mehbooba se mohobat karte hain Aur apki mehbooba ap se mohobat karti hai. To kuch log apke saath khare honge aur kuch log apke khilaf. Agar ap ne aur apki mehbooba ne sabar se kaam liya aur sirf sabar lete rahe to ap apni mohobat ko paa lenge aur jo kuch apke khilaf honge wo apke samne haar jayenge aur wo majbor ho jayenge k ab ye log humare saath kya karege. Lehaza uske baad bhi apne kuch nahi karna bas ek dusre ko khush rakhna hai aur yahi ek sabar ja fun seekhna hai.k kon apka apna hai aur kon nahi.