Mack Story Quotes

You welcome your children into the world knowing that if all goes the way you plan, you won’t get to see the end of their story. It seems a sad notion until you realize that’s what gives you hope for the future.

Every song, just like every person, has a story....All good songs leak from a broken heart. And the good ones don't give you something, as much as they take what's already inside and blow on the embers. [Mack Strum]

Mack woke up on a hard bunk, stone walls and iron bars so close they felt like they were closing in on him.

Write a word Put several words together to make a sentence Put several sentences together to make a paragraph Put enough paragraphs together and you have a story.

Whether or not we subscribe to any particular religion or philosophy, it would be hard to deny that knowing our cosmic destiny must have some impact on how we think about our existence, or even how we live our lives. If we want to know whether what we do here ultimately matters, the first thing we ask is: how will it come out in the end? If we find the answer to that question, it leads immediately to the next: what does this mean for us now? Do we still have to take the trash out next Tuesday if the universe is going to die someday? I’ve done my own scouring of theological and philosophical texts, and while I learned many fascinating things from my studies, unfortunately the meaning of existence wasn’t one of them. I may just not have been cut out for it. The questions and answers that have always drawn me in most strongly are the ones that can be answered with scientific observation, mathematics, and physical evidence. As appealing as it sometimes seemed to have the whole story and meaning of life written down for me once and for all in a book, I knew I would only ever really be able to accept the kind of truth I could rederive mathematically.

We know it had a beginning. About 13.8 billion years ago, the universe went from a state of unimaginable density, to an all-encompassing cosmic fireball, to a cooling, humming fluid of matter and energy, which laid down the seeds for the stars and galaxies we see around us today. Planets formed, galaxies collided, light filled the cosmos. A rocky planet orbiting an ordinary star near the edge of a spiral galaxy developed life, computers, political science, and spindly bipedal mammals who read physics books for fun. But what’s next? What happens at the end of the story? The death of a planet, or even a star, might in principle be survivable. In billions of years, humanity could still conceivably exist, in some perhaps unrecognizable form, venturing out to distant reaches of space, finding new homes and building new civilizations. The death of the universe, though, is final. What does it mean for us, for everything, if it will all eventually come to an end?

I feel like you can’t judge a book by its cover, that’s always been the story of my life. I can walk into any restaurant and people would be floored to learn that I know what I do about wine, let alone that I ran one of the best wine programs in the world.

Mary Lou suddenly realizes that Mack calls the temperature number because he is afraid to talk on the telephone, and by listening to a recording, he doesn’t have to reply. It’s his way of pretending that he’s involved. He wants it to snow so he won’t have to go outside. He is afraid of what might happen. But it occurs to her that what he must really be afraid of is women. Then Mary Lou feels so sick and heavy with her power over him that she wants to cry. She sees the way her husband is standing there in a frozen pose. Mack looks as though he could stand there all night with the telephone receiver against his ear.

All the dogs except eight had been named. I do not know who had been responsible for some of the names, which seemed to represent a variety of tastes. They were as follows Rugby, Upton Bristol, Millhill, Songster, Sandy, Mack, Mercury, Wolf, Amundsen, Hercules, Hackenschmidt, Samson, Sammy, Skipper, Caruso, Sub, Ulysses, Spotty, Bosun, Slobbers, Sadie, Sue, Sally, Jasper, Tim, Sweep, Martin, Splitlip, Luke, Saint, Satan, Chips, Stumps, Snapper, Painful, Bob, Snowball, Jerry, Judge, Sooty, Rufus, Sidelights, Simeon, Swanker, Chirgwin, Steamer, Peter, Fluffy, Steward, Slippery, Elliott, Roy, Noel, Shakespeare, Jamie, Bummer, Smuts, Lupoid, Spider, and Sailor. Some of the names, it will be noticed, had a descriptive flavour.

I'm sorry I dragged you into this.” He leaned back against the low wall and folded his arms. “I wouldn't have missed it for the world.” “You're trapped in the Chicago compound,” I pointed out. “Yeah, but I'm with the girl who's going to end the quarantine.” “What?” I stared at him. He cut me a sly look. “The girl in Mack's stories always does.” “I'm not that girl.” “No,” he agreed. “You're better. For one thing, you're real. And two, you fill out that dress better than a ten-year-old could.

Some have speculated that the alien beings have mastered time travel and come to us from the future. Sometimes they even communicate that this might be so. We do not know. But the guiding or regenerative myth of the abduction phenomenon offers a new story for a world that has survived many holocausts and may yet be deterred from a final cataclysm. The abduction phenomenon, it seems clear, is about what is yet to come. It presents, quite literally, visions of alternative futures, but it leaves the choice to us.

The gospel does have many of the earmarks of a fairy tale. In fairy tales you have the poor boy who becomes rich, the leaden cabinet which turns out to have the treasure in it, the ugly duckling who turns out to be a swan, the frog who becomes a prince. Then we come to the gospel, where it's the Pharisees, the good ones, who turn out to he the villains. It's the whores and tax collectors who turn out to he the good ones. Just as in fairy tales, there is the impossible happy ending when Cinderella does marry the prince, and the ugly duckling is transformed into a swan, so Jesus is not, in the end, defeated. He rises again. In all these ways there is a kind of fairy tale quality to the gospel, with the extraordinary difference, of course, that this is the fairy tale that claims to he true. The difference is that this time it's not just a story being told-it's an event. It did happen! Here's a fairy tale come true. -Frederich Buechner, interview in The Door In a utilitarian age, of all other times, it is a matter of grave importance that fairy tales should he respected.

Now, I have to tell you, this reminds me of a story. Actually, it’s an old baseball story. You see, one day, old Lucifer down there from his headquarters called St. Peter in Heaven, said they wanted to challenge him to a baseball game. And St. Peter said, “Sure, let’s play. But to be fair, I have to tell you all the great ones are up here. We’ve got Babe Ruth, Lou Gehrig, Satchel Paige, Roberto Clemente. We’ve got all the best players, and our manager is the legendary Connie Mack. You won’t have a chance.” Well, old Lucifer says, “That doesn’t matter, we’ll win anyway.” And St. Peter says, “How do you expect to do that?” “Well,” he says, “simple, we’ve got all the umpires.” Luncheon for Representative Connie Mack Miami, Florida June 29, 1988

Tristan Mack Wilds: One of the conversations from Ed that I remember the absolute most, it was during my audition. We've had deep, intellectual conversations and we've had ones where he'll say a few words that will stick with you for the rest of your life. This is one of the joints that stick with you for the rest of your life. I was in the middle of auditions, and i twas kind of the last audition for the character of Michael ... Ed pulled me out. He's kind of sitting there, kind of just thinking. He said, 'Less is more. Remember that for the rest of your life. ... The less you do, the more everybody will feel it. Because we're so prone to seeing so much. With acting, with life, whatever. W'ere so prone to seeing so much more more. But when there's less, the mystery behind it, it leaves people guessing. It feels so much more. (227)

Our stories have already been written only we are not the author. We have no way of knowing what is coming or even how our final chapter will end. We handle our storylines the best way we know how as they present themselves. All we can do is try to leave our marks along the way, our legacy.

To the right, the clouds have more shape and against the blue look like the figures of a Wedgwood dish. What a fine fucking bowl beneath which they have all been caught and asked to swim out their days! Look at it this way,” people used to say to Mack. “Things could be worse”—a bumper sticker for a goldfish or a bug. And it wasn't wrong — it just wasn't the point.

The stakes were just higher for her. She couldn’t afford to lose this story. She couldn’t afford to lose this job. People like Teddy, people like Mack—they could afford to make mistakes. They were forgiven. Young women with immigrant parents who went to college on scholarship and were one paycheck away from not being able to pay rent—they couldn’t.

one I’m not used to seeing on this man, and I hope one day he’ll feel safe enough to share his story with me.

One fascinating revelation in scripture is just how sacred human sexuality exists for God. The Bible sings with this truth, and Donna dives into this mystery to reveal the greatest love story ever told!

Mack said in frustration as he noticed the discomfort around the room.

Steel went on, intentionally keeping the discussion vague until he gauged Mack’s intentions.

I didn’t know you were coming,” Kindler said apologetically to the bemused Japanese. “If I did, I would have had John Mack here.

I watched my dad spin my mom around the kitchen every day of my life until I moved out. I listened to their stories, their laughter. They loved hard, and it was palpable. I could always feel it as much as I could see it.

Cancer is only going to be a chapter in my life and not the whole story.

Well, the general theme of it seems to be that we’re getting back at them.” “Who’s them?” “Nobody in particular. Whoever happens to be trying to push us around, as they put it; making us do things we don’t want to.

As Mack Stiles says, Most Christians in the world must fear the raised fist; Americans fear the raised eyebrow.

I would be a genius now,” Quilty has said three times already, “if only I’d memorized Shakespeare instead of Lulu.” “If only,” says Mack. Mack himself would be a genius now if only he had been born a completely different person. But what could you do? He’d read in a magazine once that geniuses were born only to women over thirty; his own mother had been twenty-nine. Damn! So fucking close!

Okay, I’ll just go on to the next card.” He picks one up, pretending to read. “It says here, ‘Darling, is there life on Mars? Yes or no.’ ” Mack has gone back to thinking about the paintings. “I say no,” he says absently. “Hmmm,” says Quilty, putting the card down. “I think the answer is yes. Look at it this way: they’re sure there are ice crystals. And where there is ice, there is water. And where there is water, there is waterfront property. And where there is waterfront property, there are Jews!” He claps his hands and sinks back onto the acrylic quilting of the bedspread. “Where are you?” he asks finally, waving his arms out in the air. “I’m here,” says Mack. “I’m right here.” But he doesn’t move. “You’re here? Well, good. At least you’re not at my cousin Esther’s Martian lake house with her appalling husband, Howard. Though sometimes I wonder how they’re doing. How are they? They never come to visit. I frighten them so much.” He pauses. “Can I ask you a question?” “Okay.” “What do I look like?

Le temps mauvais passe quand on mange et s’amuse—Bad times pass when one eats and is merry. On ne fait pas comme on veut, mais comme on peut—One doesn’t do what one wants, but what one can. La moitié du monde se moque de l’autre moitié—Half the world laughs at the other half.

There is something comforting, thinks Mack, in embracing someone the same size as you.

In fact, mackerel have a reputation the world over for their ostentatious shine. In England, calling a man a “mackerel” meant he was a dandy; in France, it meant he was a pimp. It is from the latter usage that we get the term “mack daddy.

Before he could decide what to do, he heard a female voice call out, "Pepe? Mack?" Pepe recognized the voice as belonging to Senora Rodriguez. No, Senora Thompson. There'd been a wedding in late summer. He hurried out to the main part of the barn to see what she wanted. Senora Thompson stood just inside the entrance, holding the reins of her mare, Bianca, a black beauty with four white stockings and a blaze down her nose her husband had given her after their marriage.

For years, Aldrich had pondered the vastness of that horizon, feeling always that just beyond the grasp of the understanding, something important waited. Deep in his heart he knew it was the vastness of this unknown horizon that had inspired him for years to carry on the patient, mind-wrenching toil necessary even to begin to investigate extrasensory perception. He hadn’t expected to learn everything about the psi ability—the work of centuries would be necessary for that—but he knew he would die happy if he could add just one fragment of demonstrable fact to the oceans of speculation on the subject. If the unknown was as vast as the sands of all the seashores on earth, his prayer had always been, “Dear God, let me understand just one grain of sand. Let me have just one grain of sand, one known fact. You have so many grains of sand—give me just one.” This, from Aldrich, who was not a religious man!

Until he worked his great coup, Conway Limbeck was a minor criminal preying on the gullible-minded and larcenous-hearted.

Anyone who listened to the debates over the Asian War will testify that not a single state put the international order before its own national interests, nor was it capable of so doing. The state by its very nature of acting in its own national interests cannot perform otherwise.

when crime becomes big enough, it’s no longer crime. The former criminals are in a position to buy legality.

A state absolutely sovereign as Thomas Hobbes saw it—accepting no infringements on its rights, confined in a geographic boundary, beset by enemies equally sovereign, equally ambitious and presumably equally well or better armed—could only be at war or preparing for war.

busy tracking some sand in his salad

It bears repeating that no case has yet been reported where the alien abduction story masked another kind of traumatic experience. The reverse, however, has frequently been noted, including in my case experience – i.e. that a client presenting with a complaint of possible sexual abuse or trauma has discovered a history of alien abduction experiences, even when being treated by a therapist unfamiliar with the phenomenon and certainly not expecting that an abduction story would emerge.

Although it cannot be proven that no elements of abduction experiences have been incorporated from these media, by and large abductees avoid media accounts of abductions and are uniquely distressed by them. My impression is that the traffic is stronger the other way – i.e. that abduction stories, based on actual clinical cases, find their way into the work of media producers hungry for this material.

In his annual report to the board for the year 1890, Police Chief J. M. Glass plainly put it up to them that something should be done in a city which boasted: “Nineteen hotels; 212 lodging houses, of which twenty-seven have a doubtful reputation; seventeen pawnbrokers, four of whom are Chinese; twenty-seven second-hand dealers; 171 saloons; sixty-five poker games, exclusive of those places where an occasional game is allowed; ten houses of prostitution; eighty-nine cribs; 104 prostitutes known to police; twenty-five maquereaux (French pimps better known as ‘Macks’).

I could listen to her tell stories all day.

Fuld suggested that they set up a meeting between the senior managements of both firms, without Fuld or Mack present; let them be the ones to decide if it was a good or bad idea.

As appealing as it sometimes seemed to have the whole story and meaning of life written down for me once and for all in a book, I knew I would only ever really be able to accept the kind of truth I could rederive mathematically. LOOKING UP Over the millennia since humanity’s first ponderings of its mortality, the philosophical implications of the question haven’t changed, but the tools we have to answer it have.

Their tumultuous love story was adapted into the 1974 Broadway musical Mack & Mabel. * Peeping Pete was released on June 23, 1913, with A Bandit; they are the oldest surviving Arbuckle movies. * Custard tended to break up in flight, and it faded into the background when shot in monochrome, so later pies consisted of blackberries and whipped cream—a concoction local bakeries readily learned to devise.

I am a Spiritual Being having a Human Experience!

come to the end of this story I cannot help wondering what it might take to bring about the shift in consciousness in the society as a whole, the change of paradigm, that is implicit in what the abductees have undergone.

When dealing with people, you are not dealing with creatures of logic. You are dealing with creatures of emotion.” ~ Dale Carnegie

I took it all in. The soft snores, the flicker of flames on each of the lit candles swaying to a draft I couldn't feel, the cinnamon sticks simmering in a pot atop the stove, their aroma adding to the coziness. How is it possible, I asked myself, that I'd arrive at a place in life where everything felt perfect? A man like me, who had made so many bad choices and mistakes, was waylaid by detours and false hopes, and wasn't always smart enough to get out of the way of the Mack trucks full of crazy? The snow had turned everything into a wonderland, but I knew it would one day melt. I knew that Will might not make it to another Christmas, and that, yes, Atticus was getting older as well, and would eventually leave me behind. Yet I felt blessed. p168

Hopkins has documented a case, now being widely discussed, where a woman made an unsolicited report to him that from the Brooklyn Bridge she saw his client, Linda Cortile, being taken by alien beings from her twelfth story East River apartment into a waiting spacecraft that then plunged into the river below (Hopkins 1992, 1995). These observations corresponded precisely with what Mrs. Cortile had told Hopkins happened to her when he recovered information about a reported abduction that occurred in November 1989.

none of us are perfect, but be careful of the ones driving a Mack truck full of crazy.

Mack and Clyne had been invited to participate in a “recommitment ceremony.” The plan was to show loyalty to Raniere in the most vulnerable way possible, which might have included group sex had the cops not shown up that day. Under her clothes, each actor bore a scar in the shape of Raniere’s initials, burned into her skin with a cauterizing pen more than a year earlier. It symbolized her lifelong commitment to obeying Raniere’s every request.

Why, hello, Mr. Mack,” said Briana in a snooty, lockjaw voice, like she went to college in Connecticut. “I’m ever so delighted to see you again.

Jamal Wilson came strutting into the library. He was the youngest and newest member of Riley’s “gnat pack.” That’s what Fairview’s sheriff, Big John Brown, called Riley Mack and the “other known troublemakers” he associated with. The sheriff thought they were a bunch of annoying little pests. Probably because the bully they busted most often was his son, Gavin Brown.

After the meeting, my name, along with those of the other potential inductees, was circulated around the five families. This was the mob’s version of a standard credit check. If anyone had any reason to object to me becoming a member of the family, he would let DiBella know quickly. The name circulation also had a second purpose. If anyone in another family felt he had a claim on a prospect, he was to let that be known as well. That’s exactly what happened with me. Pasquale “Paddy Mack” Marchiola, a Genovese soldier, raised an objection. He argued that I had done some business with one of his friends, and that made me his recruit. Paddy Mack gambled that this would counter my own father’s claim and negate the time I spent walking a picket line with family boss Joe Colombo. The mob commission overruled Mack’s claim.