Kona Quotes

...I know I’ve broken all the rules of all the games, that all the great players and best love calculators recommend that you play, if you want to make someone like you a lot. But that’s okay, because I give up. I’ve got my coffee sitting in my San Francisco cup, I’ve got Kona island and a working beating heart that’s not cold, hard, or numb—very workable and capable of loving, breaking, mending and repeating. So that’s just what I’ll do. Because I’m too tired. Too tired uping all nighting wasting my precious timing wishing it was your heart pumping, wanting me— like I used to want you.

I don’t want easy. I want the impossible. I want love so thick, I drown in it; it’s the only thing worth having and, I’m sorry Kona, you’re a nice guy when you’re not acting like an entitled jackass, but I really don’t think you’re capable of being anything more than that.

As a teacher of fourth-graders in a public school, where corporal punishement was not allowed, she had years of violence stored up and was, truth be told, sort of enjoying letting it out on Kona, who she felt could have been the poster child for the failure of public education.

Kona… do you… do you still love me?” “Wildcat…” he takes a breath, head shaking. “I never stopped.

Let me tell you something, Kona. Courage does not mean having no fear. It means conquering your fear. To do something you are afraid of in spite of being afraid – that is the bravest thing of all.

..tho' law an' Civ'lize ain't always the same, nay, see Kona got Kona law but they ain't got one flea o' Civ'lize.

Remembering the sound of metal clanging against wet tar sent chills up my spine. Car crashes always seemed like they couldn't happen to normal people, like me and Kona. But now I know that death can happen to anyone.

So... I'm attempting this new thing, where I try to think more like Kona. I ask myself what he would do in any given situation, and then try to act like him." "You're planning to sniff people's crotches and eat everything that isn't nailed down?

Deeper’n that it’s this. The savage sat’fies his needs now. He’s hungry, he’ll eat. He’s angry, he’ll knuckly. He’s swellin’, he’ll shoot up a woman. His master is his will, an’ if his will say-soes “Kill” he’ll kill. Like fangy animals. Yay, that was the Kona. Now the Civ’lized got the same needs too, but he sees further. He’ll eat half his food now, yay, but plant half so he won’t go hungry ’morrow. He’s angry, he’ll stop’n’ think why so he won’t get angry next time. He’s swellin’, well, he’s got sisses an’ daughters what need respectin’ so he’ll respect his bros’ sisses an’ daughters. His will is his slave, an’ if his will say-soes, “Don’t!” he won’t, nay.

Writing has significantly improved my ability to lie.

So, I asked ’gain, is it better to be savage’n to be Civ’lized? List’n, savages an’ Civ’lizeds ain’t divvied by tribes or b’liefs or mountain ranges, nay, ev’ry human is both, yay. Old Uns’d got the Smart o’ gods but the savagery o’jackals an’ that’s what tripped the Fall. Some savages what I knowed got a beautsome Civ’lized heart beatin’ in their ribs. Maybe some Kona. Not ’nuff to say so their hole tribe, but who knows one day. One day. “One day” was only a flea o’hope for us. Yay, I mem’ry Meronym sayin’, but fleas ain’t easy to rid.

I skanked deep on Wolt's pipe an' four days march from our free Windward to Kona Leeward seemed like four mil'yun, yay, babbybies o' blissweed cradled me that night, then the drummin' started up, see ev'ry tribe had its own drums. Foday o' Lotus Pond Dwellin' an' two-three Valleysmen played goatskin'n'pingwood tom-toms, an' Hilo beardies thumped their flumfy-flumfy drums an' a Honokaa fam'ly beat their sash-krrangers an' Honomu folk got their shell-shakers an' this whoah feastin' o' drums twanged the young uns' joystrings an' mine too, yay, an' blissweed'll lead you b'tween the whack-crack an' boom-doom an' pan-pin-pon till we dancers was hoofs thuddin' an' blood pumpin' an' years passin' an' ev'ry drumbeat one more life shedded off me, yay, I glimpsed all the lifes my soul ever was till far-far back b'fore the Fall, yay, glimpsed from a gallopin' horse in a hurrycane, but I cudn't describe 'em 'cos there ain't the words no more but well I mem'ry that dark Kolekole girl with her tribe's tattoo, yay, she was a saplin' bendin' an' I was that hurrycane, I blowed her she bent, I blowed harder she bent harder an' closer, then I was Crow's wings beatin' an' she was the flames lickin' an' when the Kolekole saplin' wrapped her willowy fingers around my neck, her eyes was quartzin' and she murmed in my ear, Yay, I will, again, an' yay, we will, again.

I To nie jest kraj dla starych ludzi. Między drzewa Młodzi idą w uścisku, ptak leci w zieleni, Generacje śmiertelne, a każda z nich śpiewa, Skoki łososi, w morzach ławice makreli, Całe lato wysławiać będą chóry ziemi Wszystko, co jest poczęte, rodzi się, umiera. Nikt nie dba, tą zmysłową muzyką objęty O intelekt i trwałe jego monumenty. II Nędzną rzeczą jest człowiek na starość, nie więcej Niż łachmanem wiszącym na kiju, i chyba, Że dusza pieśni składać umie, klaśnie w ręce, A od cielesnych zniszczeń pieśni jej przybywa. Tej wiedzy w żadnej szkole śpiewu nie nabędzie, W pomnikach własnej chwały tylko ją odkrywa. Dlatego ja morzami żeglując przybyłem Do świętego miasta Bizancjum. III O mędrcy gorejący w świętym boskim ogniu Jak na mozaice u ścian pełnych złota, Wyjdźcie z płomienia, co żarem was oblókł, Nauczcie, jak mam śpiewać, podyktujcie słowa. Przepalcie moje serce. Chore jest, pożąda, I kiedy zwierzę z nim spętane kona, Serce nic nie pojmuje. Zabierzcie mnie z wami W wieczność, którą kunsztownie zmyśliliście sami. IV A kiedy za natury krainą już będę, Nigdy formy z natury wziętej nie przybiorę. Jak u greckich złotników, tak formę wyprzędę Wplatających w emalię liść i złotą korę, Ażeby senny cesarz budził się ze dworem, Albo tę, jaką w złotej wykuli gęstwinie, Żeby śpiewała panom i damom Bizancjum O tym, co już minęło, czy mija, czy minie.

Kan du tenke deg hvordan det er å ligge aleine og tenke at akkurat nå blir could-have-been-kona di knulla på en kontorpult, se for deg ei lusekofte med ei naken, hvit bonderompe under som jobber på, helt til den stopper og liksom suger inn rompekinna og typen gauler: EG KJEM!

Some people take great pleasure in things like surprise birthday parties or financial windfalls, but for me, being knowingly kept in the dark is maddening.

Ved nøiere Sammenligning mellem det ældre og nuværende Sprog vil man finde, at Endelsen 'in', der bruges baade som Hunkjøns- og Intetkjøns-Udgang ved den bestemte postpositive Artikel (f. Ex. konan, bruðrin, stundin, gjörðin, augun, börnin) konseqvent hos den laveste Pøbel i de mere fordærvede Egne er bleven til "a", f. Ex. Kona, Brudra, Stunda, Auga, Barna.

When Michael Crichton approached the end of a novel (so I’ve read), he used to start getting up earlier and earlier in the morning. He was desperate to keep his mojo going. He’d get up at six, then five, then three-thirty and two-thirty, till he was driving his wife insane. Finally he had to move out of the house. He checked into a hotel (the Kona Village, which ain’t so bad) and worked around the clock till he’d finished the book. Michael Crichton was a pro. He knew that Resistance was strongest at the finish. He

Oh, that’s heinous fuckery most foul,” said Kona.

The Hurt Artist is a riveting memoir by Shane Niemeyer that takes us on a raw, unedited life journey that includes the struggles of an addict trying to find peace and the joy and journey to every triathlete’s promised land: Kona, Hawaii!

Kona was in tears, wailing like Bob Marley in a bear trap---inconsolable.

Two cups of Kona coffee, please,” Max said.

Call yourself a tea drinker all you want, but I know your sneaking in a cup of Kona....

Rum,” said Kona. “Too much hostility in dat buzz. Rum come from da cane, and cane come from slavin’ the people, and dat oppression all distilled in de bottle and come out a man mean as cat shit on a day.

She hated to leave him. She didn't want to go. But life was waiting for her; waiting for the chances Luka could never take. He had given her the wings. It was time she learned to fly.

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A battle was fought at Kuamoo, at first favorable to the defenders of the gods; but the fire-arms of the whites in the service of the king turned the tide of war against them, and they were defeated and scattered. Kekuaokalani was killed on the field, and Manono, his brave and faithful wife, fighting by his side, fell dead upon the body of her husband with a musket-ball through her temples. A rude monument of stones still marks the spot where they fell; and it is told in whispers that the kona, passing through the shrouding vines, attunes them to saddest tones of lamentation over the last defenders in arms of the Hawaiian gods.

A remarkable fact of nature is that problems almost always get solved just when they are meant to. And those who can help solve the problems almost always show up at the right time.

Malama' is the Hawaiian word for protect, preserve, and nurture. This serves as the standard for all that we do at Malama Mushrooms. Malama Mushrooms is a family-owned, superfood mushroom company based in Kona, Hawaii. Our mission is to share the health & wellness benefits of superfood mushrooms with the world.

He would never have invited my wanna-be-thug ass to come chill with him in Kona luxury back in the day. He only reached out because I’d become somebody a rich guy like him wanted to know.

Something drew her attention. Her eyes narrowed as if to bring a distant object into focus. "I have a new sense,” she realized. “I feel myself standing on the surface of a vast library.” She turned in a circle, scanning the featureless blue plain. “I feel the presence of well-ordered data.” She reached out, and to Kona’s surprise, a curving side path appeared in response to her beckoning gesture. Files sprang up on the path, each one a thin, vertical pane large enough to step into. The first file in the stack showed a branching map of the library with all its major sections neatly labeled.

I hired a rental car at the Kona airport during Hawaii island VOG air pollution and the agent told me people had been complaining of headaches for weeks!

The joys of hot Hawaiian coffee!

Dateline, Kailua-Kona, Hawaii. Approximately 11:00 P.M. In fewer than seven days and on five separate islands, Jason Lester and Rich Roll successfully logged 12 miles of swimming, 560 miles of cycling, and 131 miles of running—703 miles in total.

She’d loved him like a song. She told Kona that once. His fingers were chords, the strong vibration of a beat that slipped into her chest, filled all the empty spaces that had been missing since her father’s death. His hands were a tempo, a crushing, consuming bass line that echoed in the stillness of her heart, filling it with thick, heavy beats she heard singing into her ears. And that song had not faded, had not dimmed in the years they were apart. Kona kissed her, loved her with every touch, and he played loud, loud, loud inside her, seeping into the portions of her body, the thin wisps of her soul that only he could ever sing to her. All those years, all the struggle they both endured, faded like the reverb disappearing behind a back beat as he came to her, touching, kissing her, leaning her back against the sink, hands lowering, pulling her to his strong body. He was the drumbeat of her past, the soft melody of her memory coalescing in his extended arms, in the demanding, aching way his fingers played against her skin.

There are a lot of nice beaches from Kona to the north of Hawaii island and Hapuna beach is the famous one.

Email, texting, FaceBook. Instant communication was supposed to bring us closer together, but what it really does is give us a way to keep everyone a safe distance away.

Það hafa sagt mér frændur mínir, að þá er norræn kona ann manni um alla hluti fram, kaupi hún með legorði sínu af flugumanni að hann drepi elskhuga hennar, en taki síðan vegandann til eignar sér.

Out came an extraordinarily complex network of plastic, brass, and stainless-steel tubing, which in seconds Kona had assembled into what Quinn thought was either a very small and elegant linear particle accelerator or, more likely, the most complex bong ever constructed.

Dry areas like Kona and Kohala get their rains in the late afternoon and early evenings.

Rellonen snuste på kona si for å se om han dro kjensel på lukten hennes. Jo da. Hun luktet gammel, oppgitt kjerring. En sånn lukt går ikke av i vask.

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Nigdy nie było we mnie ani miłości, ani skupienia. Jestem wyrazem odśrodkowiska, wyrazem zniszczenia i rozwiązania. Jestem szatańską Walpurgis — nocą rozwoju, straszne Mene-Tekel, w którym kona mój czas w ostatnich spazmatycznych podrygach. W każde włókno nerwu wżarł się zarazek tego rozłamu mej duszy, w podwójny strumień rozdzielił każde moje wrażenie: bo każdy stan mej duszy bólem i rozkoszą zarazem. Wżerają się w siebie, chciałyby się przemóc, zgryźć się wzajemnie, ale uczucie bólu zwycięża. Zaledwie odczuwam delikatne podrażnienie rozkoszy, a już tętni i wali młotem ból, aż nagle rozgrywa się cała orgia, w której rozkosz obłędem się staje w jadowitych kąsaniach bólu, orgia dzikiego rżenia wściekłego ogiera i cichego, szydzącego uśmiechu potwornej hermy głowy Lucyfera, zlepionej z zwycięską twarzą Archanioła Michała. I ten piekielny rozłam, te wszystkie przewrotne instynkty wezmę sobie teraz ku pomocy. Wypędzę leniwą bestię mej chuci z jej nory, do biała rozpalonym żelazem mego pragnienia przypalę jej krzyże, wbiję jej ciernie mego bólu w stopy, że ryczeć i tańczyć się nauczy — tańczyć — na miły Bóg — tańczyć się nauczy! Obrazami, które moja zimna, wydoskonalona rozpusta porodziła, będę ją drażnił, smagał, siepał, aż znowu poczuję, żem jest mąż z ziemi porodzony — ja biedny męczennik Twego przepychu, ty biedny, młody mózgu.

Jestem wyrazem odśrodkowiska, wyrazem zniszczenia i rozwiązania. Jestem szatańską Walpurgis — nocą rozwoju, straszne Mene-Tekel, w którym kona mój czas w ostatnich spazmatycznych podrygach.