Minus Point Quotes

Shepley walked out of his bedroom pulling a T-shirt over his head. His eyebrows pushed together. “Did they just leave?” “Yeah,” I said absently, rinsing my cereal bowl and dumping Abby’s leftover oatmeal in the sink. She’d barely touched it. “Well, what the hell? Mare didn’t even say goodbye.” “You knew she was going to class. Quit being a cry baby.” Shepley pointed to his chest. “I’m the cry baby? Do you remember last night?” “Shut up.” “That’s what I thought.” He sat on the couch and slipped on his sneakers. “Did you ask Abby about her birthday?” “She didn’t say much, except that she’s not into birthdays.” “So what are we doing?” “Throwing her a party.” Shepley nodded, waiting for me to explain. “I thought we’d surprise her. Invite some of our friends over and have America take her out for a while.” Shepley put on his white ball cap, pulling it down so low over his brows I couldn’t see his eyes. “She can manage that. Anything else?” “How do you feel about a puppy?” Shepley laughed once. “It’s not my birthday, bro.” I walked around the breakfast bar and leaned my hip against the stool. “I know, but she lives in the dorms. She can’t have a puppy.” “Keep it here? Seriously? What are we going to do with a dog?” “I found a Cairn Terrier online. It’s perfect.” “A what?” “Pidge is from Kansas. It’s the same kind of dog Dorothy had in the Wizard of Oz.” Shepley’s face was blank. “The Wizard of Oz.” “What? I liked the scarecrow when I was a little kid, shut the fuck up.” “It’s going to crap every where, Travis. It’ll bark and whine and … I don’t know.” “So does America … minus the crapping.” Shepley wasn’t amused. “I’ll take it out and clean up after it. I’ll keep it in my room. You won’t even know it’s here.” “You can’t keep it from barking.” “Think about it. You gotta admit it’ll win her over.” Shepley smiled. “Is that what this is all about? You’re trying to win over Abby?” My brows pulled together. “Quit it.” His smile widened. “You can get the damn dog…” I grinned with victory. “…if you admit you have feelings for Abby.” I frowned in defeat. “C’mon, man!” “Admit it,” Shepley said, crossing his arms. What a tool. He was actually going to make me say it. I looked to the floor, and everywhere else except Shepley’s smug ass smile. I fought it for a while, but the puppy was fucking brilliant. Abby would flip out (in a good way for once), and I could keep it at the apartment. She’d want to be there every day. “I like her,” I said through my teeth. Shepley held his hand to his ear. “What? I couldn’t quite hear you.” “You’re an asshole! Did you hear that?” Shepley crossed his arms. “Say it.” “I like her, okay?” “Not good enough.” “I have feelings for her. I care about her. A lot. I can’t stand it when she’s not around. Happy?” “For now,” he said, grabbing his backpack off the floor.

MINUS TEN POINTS FOR PUBLIC NUDITY.

Oh look,” she pointed to them, a fine example of two people in love. Ruin paused and looked from them to her several times before whispering, “You want to? Now?’ “Oh my God,” she muttered, shaking her head. “Those two are in love, I was trying to show you but of course you’d only think of sex.” Ruin followed her to the truck, still watching the couple while he climbed into the driver seat. “Are you sure we’re not in love? Pretty sure we look just like that, minus all the laughing.

In mathematics there are “imaginary numbers,” strange numbers which, when squared, become minus. They have points of similarity with masks, for putting one mask over another would be the same as not putting on any at all.

She moved in for a better look.It was a portrait of Bob Marley,a pretty good one,actually.No Woman, No Cry...that's right.No teenage girls either.All right,ten points if you'Re a poet,minus twenty-five if you're in a band and minus fifty if you're into the ganja.

Regarding the Bible codes: Ge 38 tells the story of Judah and Tamar. Tamar gave birth to Perez and Zerach. As the book of Ruth points out, Perez started a lineage that led to Boaz. Does Ge 38 connect to the book of Ruth, in other ways? As expected, the names Boaz, Ruth (beginning at Ge 38:11), Obed (beginning at 38:20), Jesse, and David (beginning at Ge 38:28), are spelled out with identical numeric skips (minus 49) . . . and, they appear in chronological order! Michael Ben Zehabe, Ruth: a woman’s guide to husband material, pg 19

George A. Miller, “The Magical Number Seven, Plus or Minus Two: Some Limits on Our Capacity for Processing Information,” Psychological Review 63, 81–97 (1956).

Her silver whistle dangled between her small breasts, and if her shorts were the ones she'd been wearing on Friday, no trace of Carrie's bloody handprint remained.

And that was how sin came into the world," he said, "sin and shame and death. It came the moment their daemons became fixed." "But..." Lyra struggled to find the words she wanted: "but it en't true, is it? Not true like chemistry or engineering, not that kind of true? There wasn't really an Adam and Eve? The Cassington Scholar told me it was just a kind of fairy tale." "The Cassington Scholarship is traditionally given to a freethinker; it's his function to challenge the faith of the Scholars. Naturally he'd say that. But think of Adam and Eve like an imaginary number, like the square root of minus one: you can never see any concrete proof that it exists, but if you include it in your equations, you can calculate all manner of things that couldn't be imagined without it. "Anyway, it's what the Church has taught for thousands of years. And when Rusakov discovered Dust, at last there was a physical proof that something happened when innocence changed into experience. "Incidentally, the Bible gave us the name Dust as well. At first they were called Rusakov Particles, but soon someone pointed out a curious verse toward the end of the Third Chapter of Genesis, where God's cursing Adam for eating the fruit." He opened the Bible again and pointed it out to Lyra. She read: "In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return unto the ground; for out of it wast thou taken: for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return...." Lord Asriel said, "Church scholars have always puzzled over the translation of that verse. Some say it should read not 'unto dust shalt thou return' but 'thou shalt be subject to dust,' and others say the whole verse is a kind of pun on the words 'ground' and 'dust,' and it really means that God's admitting his own nature to be partly sinful. No one agrees. No one can, because the text is corrupt. But it was too good a word to waste, and that's why the particles became known as Dust.

Basis points,” or “bp,” represent one hundredth of a percent, in reference to the yield, or cost of borrowing. “Area” is a term that simply means “plus or minus”; sometimes it is quantified and sometimes it is left intentionally undefined. This

Busyness is a great enemy of relationships. We become preoccupied with making a living, doing our work, paying bills, and accomplishing goals as if these tasks are the point of life. They are not. The point of life is learning to love — God and people. Life minus love equals zero.

It has now been many months, at the present writing, since I have had a nourishing meal, but I shall soon have one—a modest, private affair, all to myself. I have selected a few dishes, and made out a little bill of fare, which will go home in the steamer that precedes me, and be hot when I arrive—as follows: Radishes. Baked apples, with cream Fried oysters; stewed oysters. Frogs. American coffee, with real cream. American butter. Fried chicken, Southern style. Porter-house steak. Saratoga potatoes. Broiled chicken, American style. Hot biscuits, Southern style. Hot wheat-bread, Southern style. Hot buckwheat cakes. American toast. Clear maple syrup. Virginia bacon, broiled. Blue points, on the half shell. Cherry-stone clams. San Francisco mussels, steamed. Oyster soup. Clam Soup. Philadelphia Terapin soup. Oysters roasted in shell-Northern style. Soft-shell crabs. Connecticut shad. Baltimore perch. Brook trout, from Sierra Nevadas. Lake trout, from Tahoe. Sheep-head and croakers, from New Orleans. Black bass from the Mississippi. American roast beef. Roast turkey, Thanksgiving style. Cranberry sauce. Celery. Roast wild turkey. Woodcock. Canvas-back-duck, from Baltimore. Prairie liens, from Illinois. Missouri partridges, broiled. 'Possum. Coon. Boston bacon and beans. Bacon and greens, Southern style. Hominy. Boiled onions. Turnips. Pumpkin. Squash. Asparagus. Butter beans. Sweet potatoes. Lettuce. Succotash. String beans. Mashed potatoes. Catsup. Boiled potatoes, in their skins. New potatoes, minus the skins. Early rose potatoes, roasted in the ashes, Southern style, served hot. Sliced tomatoes, with sugar or vinegar. Stewed tomatoes. Green corn, cut from the ear and served with butter and pepper. Green corn, on the ear. Hot corn-pone, with chitlings, Southern style. Hot hoe-cake, Southern style. Hot egg-bread, Southern style. Hot light-bread, Southern style. Buttermilk. Iced sweet milk. Apple dumplings, with real cream. Apple pie. Apple fritters. Apple puffs, Southern style. Peach cobbler, Southern style Peach pie. American mince pie. Pumpkin pie. Squash pie. All sorts of American pastry. Fresh American fruits of all sorts, including strawberries which are not to be doled out as if they were jewelry, but in a more liberal way. Ice-water—not prepared in the ineffectual goblet, but in the sincere and capable refrigerator.

At some point in the future, new stars will cease being born. Slowly but surely, the stars of our universe are winking out. A day will come when the night sky will be totally black, and the day sky will be totally black as well. Solar systems will become planets orbiting dead stars. According to astrophysical calculations, in about a million billion years, plus or minus, even those dead solar systems will be disrupted from chance gravitational encounters with other stars. In about ten billion billion years, even galaxies will be disrupted, the cold spheres that were once stars flung out to coast solo through empty space.

Parks waits a long while, until he’s absolutely certain that Justineau’s monologue is finished. The truth is, for most of the time he’s been trying to figure out what it is exactly that she’s trying to tell him. Maybe he was right the first time about where they were heading, and Justineau airing her ancient laundry is just a sort of palate-cleanser before they have sex. Probably not, but you never know. In any case, the countermove to a confession is an absolution, unless you think the sin is unforgivable. Parks doesn’t. “It was an accident,” he tells her, pointing out the obvious. “And probably you would have ended up doing the right thing. You don’t strike me as the sort of person who just lets shit slide.” He means that, as far as it goes. One of the things he likes about Justineau is her seriousness. He frigging flat-out hates frivolous, thoughtless people who dance across the surface of the world without looking down. “Yeah, but you don’t get it,” Justineau says. “Why do you think I’m telling you all this?” “I don’t know,” Parks admits. “Why are you telling me?” Justineau steps away from the parapet wall and squares off against him – range, zero metres. It could be erotic, but somehow it’s not. “I killed that boy, Parks. If you turn my life into an equation, the number that comes out is minus one. That’s my lifetime score, you understand me? And you … you and Caldwell, and Private Ginger f**king Rogers … my God, whether it means anything or not, I will die my own self before I let you take me down to minus two.” She says the last words right into his face. Sprays him with little flecks of spit. This close up, dark as it is, he can see her eyes. There’s something mad in them. Something deeply afraid, but it’s damn well not afraid of him. She leaves him with the bottle. It’s not what he was hoping for, but it’s a pretty good consolation prize.

After history, which I occasionally enjoy, and French, which I tres don't, I have double art. The art studio hasn't been changed in, like, a hundred years. The floors are battered and creaky and covered with so many layers of dried paint that if looks like Jackson Pollock Was Here, minus the cigarette butts. Apparently, past generations of Willing Art Girls had tossed their cigarettes onto the tiled window well outside rather than onto the floor. "They were more ladylike," Cat Vernon told me once, pointing out the window beside her easle. The butts are gone, but there are burn marks, scattered like leopard spots,over the terra-cotta surface.

Warren,still staring at the splendid black eye and several cuts on his face, remarked, "Hate to see what the other fellow looks like," which James supposed was a compliment of sorts, since Warren had personal experience of his fists from numerous occasions himself. "Like to congratulate the other fellow myself," Nicholas said with a smirk, which got him a kick under the table from his wife. James nodded to Reggie. "Appreciate it, m'dear. My feet wouldn't reach." To which she blushed that her kick had been noticed. And Nicholas, still wincing, managed a scowl,which turned out rather comical looking, considering the two expressions didn't mix all that well. "Is Uncle Toony still among the living?" Amy asked, probably because neither James nor his brother had returned back downstairs last night. "Give me a few more days to figure that out,puss, 'cause I bloody well ain't sure just now," Anthony said as he came slowly into the room,an arm tucked to his side as if he were protecting some broken ribs. A melodramatic groan escaped as he took the seat across from his brother. James rolled his eyes hearing it. "Give over,you ass," he sneered. "Your ife ain't here to witness your theatrics." "She's not?" Anthony glanced down the table, then made a moue and sat back in his chair-minus groaning this time. However, he did complain to James, "You did break my ribs,you know." "Devil I did, though I'll admit I considered it. And by the by, the option is still open." Anthony glared at him. "We're too bloody old to be beating on each other." "Speak for yourself, old man. One is never too old for a spot of exercise." "Ah,so that's what we were doing?" Anthony shot back dryly, as he gently fingered his own black eye. "Exercising, was it?" James raised a brow. "And that's not what you do weekly at Knighton's Hall? But I understand your confusion in the matter, since you're used to doling out the damage, rather than receiving any. Tends to give one a skewed perspective. Glad to have cleared that up for you." It was at that point that Jason walked in, took one look at his two younger brothers' battered faces, and remarked, "Good God, and at this time of the year,no less? I'll see you both in my study.

Two glistening fish appeared on each side of the beaded rectangle, symbolic of the Gothic arched tower of the Brooklyn Bridge, just as they had mutually planned the design. But above that rectangle there was now a third shimmering, pointed oval, shaped the same as the fish but minus the tail. This pointed oval glimmered with delicate iridescence as the fabric moved. Visually, the shape was a subtle repetition of the Gothic arch and finished off the rectangular shape so that the impression became that of a lighted flame at the center of the design, a light reminiscent of Liberty’s torch. At a deeper, hidden level in Alice’s mind, the shape completed an allusion to Constance’s three children. This she had done for both of them, for their dead sons, regardless of whether Constance ever fathomed that aspect of Alice’s addition to the design. Every stitch in that simple shape had given Alice comfort.

Putting it all together, fluctuations in attitudes and behavior combine to make the stock market the ultimate pendulum. In my 47 full calendar years in the investment business, starting with 1970, the annual returns on the S&P 500 have swung from plus 37% to minus 37%. Averaging out good years and bad years, the long-run return is usually stated as 10% or so. Everyone’s been happy with that typical performance and would love more of the same. But remember, a swinging pendulum may be at its midpoint “on average,” but it actually spends very little time there. The same is true of financial market performance. Here’s a fun question (and a good illustration): for how many of the 47 years from 1970 through 2016 was the annual return on the S&P 500 within 2% of “normal”—that is, between 8% and 12%? I expected the answer to be “not that often,” but I was surprised to learn that it had happened only three times! It also surprised me to learn that the return had been more than 20 percentage points away from “normal”—either up more than 30% or down more than 10%—more than one-quarter of the time: 13 out of the last 47 years. So one thing that can be said with total conviction about stock market performance is that the average certainly isn’t the norm. Market fluctuations of this magnitude aren’t nearly fully explained by the changing fortunes of companies, industries or economies. They’re largely attributable to the mood swings of investors. Lastly, the times when return is at the extremes aren’t randomly distributed over the years. Rather they’re clustered, due to the fact that investors’ psychological swings tend to persist for a while—to paraphrase Herb Stein, they tend to continue until they stop. Most of those 13 extreme up or down years were within a year or two of another year of similarly extreme performance in the same direction.

Pres, I know you’re going to say this is dumb, and I know you won’t understand. Which is why I asked Bee and Ryan for help. Don’t get me wrong, I like fighting with you, but there are some things you just can’t argue. This is one, and I hope you’ll come to accept that. I have to leave Pine Grove. I have to leave Alabama, and I have to leave you. After tonight, that’s all completely clear to me. This whole situation is effed up (hope you appreciate my discretion there), and it’s clear to me now that the only way to un-eff it up *do i get bonus points for that one?) is to take myself out of the equation. Without me, you, Bee, and Ryan can just be you, Bee, and Ryan. Not Paladins or Mages. People. With your own lives. It’s like you said at that time at Cotillion practice, you want to be a good woman who chooses the right thing for everybody. Well, so do I. (Minus the woman part, obviously.) Have a good life, Pres. I love you. Always. D

The people who build high, strong fences are the ones who survive the best. You deny that reality only at the risk of being driven into the wilderness yourself' - Oshima, 316 I'm empty-handed now. The can of yellow spray paint, the little hatchet- they're history. The daypack's gone as well. No canteen, no food. Not even the compass. One by one I left these behind. Doing this gives a visible message to the forest: I'm not afraid anymore. That's why I choose to be totally defenseless. Minus my hard shell, ust flesh and bones, I head for the core of the labyrinth, giving myself up to the void. ... But I gradually get better at letting these threats pass me by. This forest is basically a part of me, isn't it? This thought takes hold at a certain point. The journey I'm taking is inside me . Just like blood travels down veins, what I'm seeing is my inner self, and what seems threatening is just the echo of fear in my own heart. The spiderweb stretched taut there is the spiderweb inside me. The birds calling out overhead are birds I've fostered in my mind. These images spring up in my mind and take root. - Kafka, 396-7

Alice's Cutie Code TM Version 2.1 - Colour Expansion Pack (aka Because this stuff won’t stop being confusing and my friends are mean edition) From Red to Green, with all the colours in between (wait, okay, that rhymes, but green to red makes more sense. Dang.) From Green to Red, with all the colours in between Friend Sampling Group: Fennie, Casey, Logan, Aisha and Jocelyn Green  Friends’ Reaction: Induces a minimum amount of warm and fuzzies. If you don’t say “aw”, you’re “dead inside”  My Reaction: Sort of agree with friends minus the “dead inside” but because that’s a really awful thing to say. Puppies are a good example. So is Walter Bishop. Green-Yellow  Friends’ Reaction: A noticeable step up from Green warm and fuzzies. Transitioning from cute to slightly attractive. Acceptable crush material. “Kissing.”  My Reaction: A good dance song. Inspirational nature photos. Stuff that makes me laugh. Pairing: Madison and Allen from splash Yellow  Friends’ Reaction: Something that makes you super happy but you don’t know why. “Really pretty, but not too pretty.” Acceptable dating material. People you’d want to “bang on sight.”  My Reaction: Love songs for sure! Cookies for some reason or a really good meal. Makes me feel like it’s possible to hold sunshine, I think. Character: Maxon from the selection series. Music: Carly Rae Jepsen Yellow-Orange  Friends’ Reaction: (When asked for non-sexual examples, no one had an answer. From an objective perspective, *pushes up glasses* this is the breaking point. Answers definitely skew toward romantic or sexual after this.)  My Reaction: Something that really gets me in my feels. Also art – oil paintings of landscapes in particular. (What is with me and scenery? Maybe I should take an art class) Character: Dean Winchester. Model: Liu Wren. Orange  Friends’ Reaction: “So pretty it makes you jealous. Or gay.”  “Definitely agree about the gay part. No homo, though. There’s just some really hot dudes out there.”(Feenie’s side-eye was so intense while the others were answering this part LOLOLOLOLOL.) A really good first date with someone you’d want to see again.  My Reaction: People I would consider very beautiful. A near-perfect season finale. I’ve also cried at this level, which was interesting. o Possible tie-in to romantic feels? Not sure yet. Orange-Red  Friends’ Reaction: “When lust and love collide.” “That Japanese saying ‘koi no yokan.’ It’s kind of like love at first sight but not really. You meet someone and you know you two have a future, like someday you’ll fall in love. Just not right now.” (<-- I like this answer best, yes.) “If I really, really like a girl and I’m interested in her as a person, guess. I’d be cool if she liked the same games as me so we could play together.”  My Reaction: Something that gives me chills or has that time-stopping factor. Lots of staring. An extremely well-decorated room. Singers who have really good voices and can hit and hold superb high notes, like Whitney Houston. Model: Jasmine Tooke. Paring: Abbie and Ichabod from Sleepy Hollow o Romantic thoughts? Someday my prince (or princess, because who am I kidding?) will come? Red (aka the most controversial code)  Friends’ Reaction: “Panty-dropping levels” (<-- wtf Casey???).  “Naked girls.” ”Ryan. And ripped dudes who like to cook topless.”  “K-pop and anime girls.” (<-- Dear. God. The whole table went silent after he said that. Jocelyn was SO UNCOMFORTABLE but tried to hide it OMG it was bad. Fennie literally tried to slap some sense into him.)  My Reaction: Uncontrollable staring. Urge to touch is strong, which I must fight because not everyone is cool with that. There may even be slack-jawed drooling involved. I think that’s what would happen. I’ve never seen or experienced anything that I would give Red to.

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

I couldn’t feel guilty any longer for misdeeds committed by another incarnation. I wouldn’t. “I’m sorry for your past, Aric. I wish it had been different. I wish I had been. But I refuse to keep paying for what I did in past games.”“Do you, then?” “In our first meeting, you skewered me with your sword. In other words: you started it. You didn’t ask me to marry you, just ordered it. I played the hand I was dealt.” “I take your point.” “Let’s begin anew, Empress.” (He expects her to ‘forgive/forget’ for him but not Jack?) “The mortal can’t provide for you like I can. I offer you a home. Defensive, I said, “Jack plans to rebuild Haven House for me.” Anger flashed across Aric’s face. He schooled his reactions as quickly as he did everything else, leaving his emotions to seethe beneath the surface. “If you desire something, all you have to do is tell me. It will shortly be yours. You’ll see soon enough.” (Bribery for her to favor him?) What if Aric could straight-up end the game? Blow up the machine? “Deveaux will never understand you as I do. As only another Arcana can.” “Maybe not. But we have other ties.” I thought of the ribbon he’d kept all this time, the one now in my pocket. “As do we. We are wed.” (after Aric ordered her to do so.) “I think of you as mine. “When I recognized that you weren’t over your infatuation with the mortal, I might have been . . . testing you.” He’d tested me the other night as well! “What if I’d surrendered?” “Testing me doesn’t excuse what you did. Coercion is not cool.” “Then teach me what is! “I don’t think something like that can be taught. It’s part of your makeup, part of who you are.” “Aric, selfless acts might be beyond you. And even sex with you would come with strings. What if I hadn’t realized you were minus one condom?” The memory stoked my fury. “You were about to trick me—to betray me.” “You had my entire future mapped out—with me knocked up—and you never mentioned it to me.” (keeping secrets). “It’s been this way between husbands and wives for thousands of years. At the time, I thought if we were so blessed, then all the better.” Because his concepts about marriages and families were from a different epoch.

The race across the mountain continued, but the mountains still glowed when it was their time to glow. They still cried when it was time for rain. And they still told you stories, if you only knew how to listen to them. But I was no longer one of those who knew how to listen … who knew how to laugh and cry with them … I was an athlete … I was an alpinist. I spoke of walls and overhangs. I ran and trained and counted my ascents. I fell prey to the folly of categorization, adding up points, comparing myself to others and making myself poorer and poorer. I was turning into a shallow and stupid craftsman. All I saw were numbers, summit heights, sizes of walls, estimations of difficulty. I only saw Roman and Arabic numerals, commas and plus and minus signs. My hands and legs were strong and unstoppable but my head became empty and my heart no longer beat faster because it was being overwhelmed by beauty – only because of physical effort. My path was rapidly turning downhill while the curve of my success continued to rise. One climb became indistinguishable from another. I functioned like a well-oiled machine that will continue to run on empty if no one stops it. And thus the wheels of my machine kept turning without purpose, faster and faster, until my children reminded me that the birds in the forest were still singing.” Excerpt From: Bernadette McDonald. “Alpine Warriors.

The fifth edition simplifies and rationalizes D&D in key ways. Breaking down a door is a great example: When Angela wanted to throw her weight around, Willi asked for her strength score—and figured it was high enough to get the job done. “The idea is if you are not rushed, and there’s really no danger, we simply look at it and say anyone with a strength of fifteen or above can open it,” Willi said. “If you are being chased by a horde of goblins and it’s important to get in the door in a rush, then I might make you roll. But generally, it’s the DM’s prerogative.” Compare that to the 3.5 edition rules, which are rather more complicated. First, the player may attempt to smash the door open with a Strength check. They roll a d20 and add their strength bonus. Then the DM checks a table5 that lists different kinds of doors (simple wooden, good wooden, strong wooden, stone, iron, wooden portcullis, iron portcullis) and determines the door’s breaking point. If the player scored higher than that number, they’re through. If not, they’ve got a long way to go. Next, the DM figures out the door’s armor class (10, plus a modifier based on its size, and minus 2 because it’s an inanimate object). Then the player has to fight the door like it’s an opposing monster. They attack, and if the attack roll is higher than the door’s AC, they do damage—but not before the DM goes back to his tables and figures out the door’s hardness. Hardness reduces damage, so if you hit for 9 points of damage against a stone door with a hardness of 8, you really only do 1 point of damage . . . and at that rate, you’ll have to hit the door another sixty times before you eventually smash the thing to pieces. Or, more likely, you toss the stupid rule book under the couch and go play video games instead.

The philosophical view known as Idealism posits that reality is, in some necessary way, linked with and dependent on cognitive perception and the understanding of ideas. This is not necessarily to say that the physical matter of one’s body or things outside of one’s body occur only in consciousness, but that one’s knowledge of their reality only occurs in consciousness and thus, their reality is interdependent on consciousness. Even if one doesn’t agree with Idealism, one could still agree with the premise that our mind creates – or allows – our sense and experience of being. And so, if our mind and consciousness are lost upon death, then we are faced with a non-being of reality. A point at which we could no longer even imagine everything in the universe being removed because, as the imaginer, we would be too. This of course would potentially be the absolute nothing. It is strange and rather terrifying to consider this; that we can be something for now and nothing forever. But perhaps only because of the fact that we are nothing forever, can we be something for now. A negation of all other things across all other time and space, a being amidst everything else, and nothing more; and perhaps only because of which, we are something right now. The nothing comes first. Nothingness precedes consciousness, and the conscious act of negating, or imagining nothing, is an act that is derived from the nothingness. In other words, the non-being acts on being, allowing the intellect to negate everything except itself back to it. For example, by self-identifying our self as our self, we have determined that we are our self minus everything else, which is to also say, we are who we are and nothing else. Our total sum of perceptions and understandings, all determined through this same process of negating every individual thing from everything else, consolidates into the last and final negation of self-knowledge. Nothing isn’t the opposite of being nor what everything come from per se, but what allows something to be at all. It is possible that nothing doesn’t necessarily create everything but rather, serves as the backdrop that allows everything. Like a blank canvas is to the painting, nothingness is to the being of the canvas itself. Likewise, to the painter painting and every particle involved. It could then follow that, at the risk of more seemingly rhetorical wordplay, everything and nothing are one, in simultaneous, interlocked coordination with one another, everything contained by nothing, nothing supposed by everything. The blank canvas to the painting. The nothingness to all space and time. In the words of Alan Watts, “So in this way, by seeing that nothingness is the fundamental reality, and you see it’s your reality, then how can anything contaminate you? All the ideas of you being scared and put out and worried and so on, it’s just nothing. It’s a dream. Because you’re really nothing. But this is the most incredible nothing. So, cheer up! You see?

TASK: CLEAN Condition: Pick up a kettlebell, swing it back between your legs as if for a swing, and bring it to the rack in one smooth movement. Then drop the kettlebell back between your legs and repeat the drill for reps. The clean. Standard: 1. All of the points that apply to the swing, minus the straight-arm requirement on the top. 2. Don’t dip your knees when racking the kettlebell. 3. The kettlebell, the elbow, and the torso must “become one” on the top of the clean. The shoulders must be pressed down. 4. The arms must stay loose, and the hips must do all the work. 5. The kettlebell must travel the shortest distance possible. 6. Unacceptable: scooping; banging the forearms; stressing the back, elbows, wrists, or shoulders. Ladies should not hit their breasts with their arms or the kettlebells for health reasons.

TASK: KETTLEBELL SNATCH Condition: Snatch a kettlebell for repetitions with one arm and then the other. Standard: 1. All of the points that apply to the swing, (see pages 44-45) minus the requirement to keep a straight arm. 2. Pick up the kettlebell, swing it back between your legs, and snatch it overhead in one uninterrupted motion to a straight-arm lockout. The snatch. At the lockout, the arm must be level with the head or behind the head. 3. Catch the kettlebell softly without banging your forearm or jarring your elbow and shoulder. 4. At the lockout, the arm must be level with the head or behind the head. 5. Maintain the fixation for a second with the arm and legs straight and the feet and body stationary. 6. Lower the kettlebell between your legs in one loose, uninterrupted motion without touching the chest or the shoulder, and snatch again.

I’ll make her come on my Dragon cock,” Dante said and the team burst out laughing while Mars scowled. “Minus two rank points, get your head in the game Oscura,” he snapped and Dante shrugged.

The cheek of the human race,” he exclaimed, “is something to knock you footless. Begin with the unthinkable universe; narrow down to the minute sun inside it; pass to the satellite of the sun which we are pleased to call the Earth; glance at the myriad algae, or whatever the things are called, of the sea, and at the uncountable microbes, going backwards to a minus infinity, which populate ourselves. Drop an eye on those quarter million other species which I have mentioned, and upon the unmentionable expanses of time through which they have lived. Then look at man, an upstart whose eyes, speaking from the point of view of nature, are scarcely open further than the puppy’s. There he is, the—the gollywog—” He was becoming so excited that he had no time to think of suitable epithets. “There he is, dubbing himself Homo sapiens, forsooth, proclaiming himself the lord of creation, like that ass Napoleon putting on his own crown! There he is, condescending to the other animals: even condescending, God bless my soul and body, to his ancestors! It is the Great Victorian Hubris, the amazing, ineffable presumption of the nineteenth century

No Need for Time Before the Creation of the World Here is one more quotation representative of the way Stephen Hawking thought: “The role played by time at the beginning of the Universe is, I believe, the final key to removing the need for a grand designer and revealing how the Universe created itself. As we travel back in time towards the moment of the Big Bang, the Universe gets smaller and smaller and smaller, until it finally comes to a point where the whole Universe is a space so small that it is in effect a single infinitesimally small, infinitesimally dense black hole. And just as with modern-day black holes, floating around in space, the laws of nature dictate something quite extraordinary. They tell us that here too time itself must come to a stop. You can’t get to a time before the Big Bang because there was no time before the Big Bang. We have finally found something that doesn’t have a cause, because there was no time for a cause to exist in. For me this means that there is no possibility of a creator, because there is no time for a creator to have existed in. People want answers to the big questions, like why we are here. They don’t expect the answers to be easy, so they are prepared to struggle a bit. When people ask me if a God created the Universe, I tell them that the question itself makes no sense. Time didn’t exist before the Big Bang so there is no time for God to make the Universe in. It’s like asking for directions to the edge of the Earth—the Earth is a sphere that doesn’t have an edge, so looking for it is a futile exercise.” In its absolute state, beyond the World, the Being is immaterial, and the Nonbeing is an absolute vacuum, nothingness, or emptiness. In the primordial state of the Absolute, the Being and the Nonbing become the same—the Nonbeing. There is no time or space in the absolute realm beyond the World. Timeless “time” is the potential for Eternity. Eternity is beyond time because it is all time, past and future. Spaceless “space” or nothingness is the infinite potential for space. Infinity is beyond space because infinity is all space, past and future. Creation or recreation of the World (Universe) activates the two poles of the Absolute. Creation of the World is the salvation of the Absolute. Absolute is absolute potential. The activity of the Being enveloping the Nonbeing (Nothingness) transforms the Being and the Nonbeing into the World (Universe). When the Absolute transforms into the World, the Being becomes positive, and the Nonbeing becomes negative. The Being is positive “energy.” The Nonbeing is negative “energy.” Zero is the point of equilibrium between the Being and the Nonbeing. Zero is the passage (wormhole) between the primordial state of the Absolute and the World or Universe. Before the spacetime continuum, plus and minus are the same: + = – Before the creation, Absolute is 0 (+ – = 0) At the point of the World Creation, the Being envelopes the Nonbeing: + 0 – The Being cannot envelop the whole of the Nonbeing because Nothingness is infinite in its potential. The Being is infinite in its potential, too. (+ [plus] is the Being; – [minus] the Nonbeing; 0 [Zero] is the Absolute) The primordial state of the Absolute is immaterial, spaceless, and timeless. The primordial state of the Absolute is absolute potential. In its potential, the Absolute is infinite and eternal. Absolute can only exercise its potential and power in the infinite number of possibilities and universes or worlds it can transform into.

Don’t even think about it,” she said. He grinned in spite of himself. “Come on, Ellie. You can’t make me not think about it.” “I’m not getting mixed up with someone like you. First of all, I’m all wrong for someone like you. Second, I’m clearing out the second I have my kids. Third…” She paused. “I don’t need a third. That’s good enough. Don’t ever do that again.” “I haven’t kissed a woman like that in quite a while,” he said. “That was nice. Are you angry?” he asked. “Did I taste angry?” He just smiled. “You tasted wonderful. You’re right—it’s not such a good idea. Well, I mean, it is a good idea. But I see the potential for disaster.” She pulled away and put a hand against her wild curls as if to smooth her hair into place. The hand trembled a bit; he’d never seen her rattled before. “You’re just going to get yourself in trouble with the Big Guy, and there’s no point in making your life tougher.” “Nah, God’s not opposed to kissing. I think employers taking advantage of employees, however, could put a big black mark on the minus side of my chart. But you liked it,” he said. “You did. And I liked it. It felt pretty consensual to me.” “I’m not the kind of woman a man like you gets interested in, and we both know that. Eventually that could hurt me. And if you really are a nice guy, hurting me will hurt you.” “Because of that dancing thing?” he asked. “That dancing thing, and I’m poor, undereducated, strapped with kids and very, very temporary.” “Wait now,” he said. “I’m not trying to make an argument for interest, because you might be right—it might be a mistake that could get out of control. But you’re smart, no matter how much or little formal education you have. And I don’t believe you see your kids as a liability, and you know I don’t—I like them. And you won’t always be poor, not with your ambition and positive attitude.” He smiled gently. “The dancing doesn’t matter a damn. I understand about that.” “I don’t want to be your bad girl. The one you take chances with for a little walk on the wild side. To break a few rules, have a little sinful fun.” “Ellie, there’s not a bad bone in your body. And we both know it.” “That isn’t really the point, Your Holiness…” “Okay, let’s be rational. I apologize, I won’t do it again, but really—it was just a kiss.” “Not the way you do it,” she said.

I have seen plenty of ‘Struggle minus Success’ stories where you are forced to ask yourself ‘Why to him/her?’. There are few questions unanswered as it isn’t that hard work is the sole companion to achieve greatness because there are people still toiling for their first good break, first high salaried job, first best employee award, first terrific trip abroad, first buck-up cheer to perform excellently, first smile to relax you out from the stress, first pat to motivate you further, first kiss to give a feeling that whatever happened to you till then was just a ‘Test’. Unfortunately, the test never ends for many.

There’s no point running anyway. In t-minus ten minutes, you will have no where to run to.” Quinn tensed at the triumphant look in his eyes. “. . .what have you done?” “I have entered launch codes in the computer. In exactly ten minutes, Alpha Star 9 will be a black stain in the middle of Utah.” Quinn’s lips part in shock. “Yes,” said. Dr. Zorgone in amusement. “Dramatic gasp!

amount you can spend, by calculating all transactions sending you money minus all transactions deducting money from your account (public key) since the point of creation of the network (genesis block). Therefore anyone can calculate everyone's “balance” by starting at the genesis block and calculating each in- and outgoing transaction.

Our job is to pile up yearly advantages over the performance of the Dow without worrying too much about whether the absolute results in a given year are a plus or a minus. I would consider a year in which we were down 15% and the Dow declined 25% to be much superior to a year when both the partnership and the Dow advanced 20%. I have stressed this point in talking with partners and have watched them nod their heads with varying degrees of enthusiasm. It is most important to me that you fully understand my reasoning in this regard and agree with me not only in your cerebral regions, but also down in the pit of your stomach. For

The standardized Scholastic Aptitude Tests (SAT) for 2013 paint an equally grim picture. Only 43 percent of the 1.66 million students who took the test scored high enough to be classified as “college ready.” What is worse, this is the fifth year in a row that fewer than half of the young people who took the test scored above 1550, the threshold for demonstrating the capability to maintain a grade point average (GPA) of B-minus or better in a four-year degree college or university.10

We are only here at the kindness of Mother Nature. She has been very lenient with us. But every mother has her breaking point. One day, perhaps not too far in the future,

The ramifications of Pythagoras' theorem have revolutionized twentieth century theoretical physics in many ways. For example, Minkowski discovered that Einstein's special theory of relativity could be represented by four-dimensional pseudo-Euclidean geometry where time is represented as the fourth dimension and a minus sign is introduced into Pythagoras' law. When gravitation is present, Einstein proposed that Minkowski's geometry must be "curved", the pseudo-Euclidean structure holding only locally at each point. A complex vector space having a natural generalization of the Pythagorean structure (defined over functions in an abstract space rather than geometrical points in the familiar Euclidean space) is known as Hilbert space and forms the basis of quantum mechanics. It is remarkable to think that the two pillars of twentieth century physics, relativity and quantum theory, both have their basis in mathematical structures based on a theorem formulated by an eccentric mathematician over two and a half thousand years ago.

Confidence spark If you’re feeling shaky about taking an action that could prove risky, use this exercise to determine if the action is what I call a best bet, a smart risk worth taking. First, analyze the pros and cons. Say you’re offered a job working for a start-up company. How many pluses and minuses can you list? Which do you have more of? Second, consider the timing and your other priorities. Are you just starting out or have you been in the workforce for a long time? Are you single or married; do you have children? All of these factors go into determining whether taking the risk is worth it. Third and most importantly, listen to your inner voice. What is it advising? If everything points to go, then it’s time to make a move. Or maybe you find that the timing is not right. Don’t discard your plans—just put them aside for now. Reevaluate the opportunity, or another one just like it, at a later time. Letting

What was the number for critical density again?” Marie asked. Nala picked up one of the cracker boxes and wrote on it: 9.47 × 10–27 kg / m3. “Nine point four seven times ten to the minus twenty-seven kilograms per cubic meter,” she recited.

I imitated every style in the hope of finding the clue to the gnawing secret of how to write. Finally I came to a dead end, to a despair and desperation which few men have known, because there was no divorce between myself as writer and my­self as man: to fail as a writer meant to fail as a man. And I failed. I realized that I was nothing-less than nothing-a minus quantity. It was at this point, in the midst of the dead Sargasso Sea, so to speak, that I really began to write. I began from scratch, throw­ing everything overboard, even those whom I most loved. Im­mediately I heard my own voice I was enchanted the fact that it was a separate, distinct, unique voice sustained me. It didn’t matter to me if what I wrote should be considered bad. Good and bad dropped out of my vocabulary. I jumped with two feet into the realm of aesthetics, the non-moral, non-ethical, non-utilitarian realm of art.

As Lao-tse pointed out, the bad can be raw material for the good. So quite often, the easiest way to get rid of a Minus is to change it into a Plus.

Phoebe had been raised to feel sorry for everything—sorry for being born, sorry for almost drowning, sorry for getting an A-minus on my exam, sorry for not bearing children, sorry for not getting to the last three slides of the PowerPoint, everybody.

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who treat everything, even this nineteenth-century mansion, even Phoebe’s husband, as their inheritance. Phoebe had been raised to feel sorry for everything—sorry for being born, sorry for almost drowning, sorry for getting an A-minus on my exam, sorry for not bearing children, sorry for not getting to the last three slides of the PowerPoint, everybody. Sometimes, Phoebe sent her class apology emails after lectures when she didn’t finish on time. Because she was a good professor. A good woman. But where is the line? When did Phoebe being good become Phoebe being nothing?

You will be tomorrow morning when I get my hands on you,’ Large snapped. ‘Minus ten house points for Hufflepuff. Over and out.

One day when her coursework was nearly completed, the department chairman called her into his office. She had gotten nearly all As. He pointed to her sole A-minus and told her, “This confirms that women don’t do well in laboratory work.

Correct. There are no save points in real life. On the other hand, even if you lose, you’re not gonna lose half the money you have on you or anything. So there’s no minus to losing a battle. Fighting as much as you can will benefit you. And with enough battles, you just might get lucky and win, right?” “…Well, if you put it like that, I guess so.” “But that’s not the really important point. Listen. There’s one thing about failure in the game of life that’s different from all other games… Do you know what it is?” She grinned and peered into my eyes. “Uh…that’s so broad. Maybe…?” Hinami interrupted my mental search. “I’ll tell you,” she said, then slowly explained. “In life, you get EXP for losing battles, not winning them.

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Phoebe had been raised to feel sorry for everything—sorry for being born, sorry for almost drowning, sorry for getting an A-minus on my exam, sorry for not bearing children, sorry for not getting to the last three slides of the PowerPoint, everybody. Sometimes, Phoebe sent her class apology emails after lectures when she didn’t finish on time. Because she was a good professor. A good woman. But where is the line? When did Phoebe being good become Phoebe being nothing?

A single disadvantage could spoil our many advantages.

Enough!” Orion called eventually and I dropped my hands to my knees as I panted with exertion. “Fifty points to Ignis for an impenetrable defence, Darius. Minus fifty for not attacking your opponent when you had the opportunity. And you can have one point for determination, Miss Vega.” I flipped him off and his eyes lit with amusement as he called an end to the class and the rest of the students started to disperse.

Minus five points for Ignis and Aer for failing to navigate the waterfall. It’ll be the same every time you two fail to make it to my class dry. Although those transparent shirts will give the class a thing or two to look at...

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