Mojo Quotes

Is this the part where you tell me you're secretly in love with me? Vampire mojo strikes again.

I was following you.' - Jace 'Is this the part where you tell me you're secretly in love with me? Vampire mojo strikes again.' - Simon

Theres no such thing as vampire mojo,"said Jace,rather eeirly echoing Clarys earlier comment."And I was following Clary,but then she got into a cab,and I cant follow a cab.So I doubled back and followed you instead.Mostly for something to do" "You were following Clary?"Simon echoed."Heres a hot tip : Most girls dont like being stalked

Seven years, Dawn. Working with the Slayer. Seeing my friends get more and more powerful... a witch. A demon. Hell, I could fit Oz in my shaving kit, but come a full moon, he had a wolfy mojo not to be messed with. Powerful, all of them. And I'm the guy who fixes the windows. They'll never know how tough it is, Dawnie, to be the one who isn't Chosen, to live so near the spotlight and never step in it. But I know. I see more than anybody realizes because nobody's watching me. I saw you last night, and I see you working here today. You're not special; you're extraordinary.

I can't believe you're going to sacrifice your archery mojo for MacReive." Lucia would forfeit her fantastical skill with a bow if she was unchaste. "Who am I going to hang out with when your a talentless nobody?

He laughs. "Put some clothes on so you don't scare poor Kiara with your morning hard-on." I look down at my shorts. Sure enough, I've got la tengo dura in front of Kiara and Tuck. Shit. I reach out for the first thing I can grab and put it in front of me to shield myself from view. It happens to be one of Kiara's stuffed animals, but I don't have much choice right now. "That's Kiara's Mojo," Tuck says, laughing. "Get it? Mojo?

Work that mojo, gray girl. Consider me a true believer now. Hallelujah.

Sorin said they came to him and begged him to take them out for a girls' night. Something about getting Jen and Sally hooked up with – I think they used the words 'hot Romanian mojo', or some non-sense.” Vasile rolled his eyes. “You know how those three talk. It's like a foreign language all on its own.

Mojo” is, “That positive spirit toward what we are doing now, that starts from the inside and radiates to the outside

I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you’re perfect for each other! You irritate people, and he smooths things out. You have good mojo, and he only thinks he does. You’re broke, and he’s rich. You’ve got those weird feet of yours, and he’s got them cute ears.

I moved quickly, putting myself between the two of them. "Stop it!" I shouted. "I have way too much to worry about right now to also have to pull you two off each other. Jeesh, talk about immature." Both guys kept glaring at each other over my head. "I said, stop it!" And I smacked their chests. That made them blink and shift their attention to me. Now it was my turn to do the glaring. "You know, you two are ridiculous with your puffing up and your testosterone and crap. I mean, I could summon the elements and kick both of your butts." Heath shuffled his feet and looked embarrassed. Then he grinned at me, like a cute little boy whose mommy had just yelled at him. "Sorry, Zo. I forget you have some major mojo going on.

One of the few times I’ve ever wished for a penis,” she said to Rae when the bartender stepped up to take the order of yet another male customer. They’d been waiting to be served for over twenty minutes. She’d even worn the red magic boob dress tonight, but unfortunately, its mojo offered no help in this particular situation. “You haven’t had sex in six months,” Rae said. “If I were you, I’d be wishing for penises every night.

Wildlife mojo?” Copper queried with dry amusement, taking another sip of the excellent champagne. “Oh, excuse me, Feral Forest Queen, do you have a special name for what you do? Does it have mud anywhere in the title?

Get your ass back on the tree, Jayne, I just lost the mojo.

It makes me sad, sad inside, to see a warrior without his pride.

I like ambition. I like someone who gets up in the morning and has a purpose. A real purpose. I have one. I want whoever I love to have one." "I always look forward to breakfast.

He was wearing a little bag of “Mojo” around his neck.

Some people were like rubber bands--willing to stretch but eager to snap back into place at the first opportunity.

Aren't you embarrassed undressing in front of a queer?" Leonard said. "All you know, I might be sizing up your butthole." "Just call me a tease.

There's no one more obnoxious and self-righteous than the self-made man. And no one more admirable.

Not everything has to be done with herbs and oils. In fact, when it comes to any kind of business-related magic, I much prefer a consecrated metal talisman or paper seal hidden away, rather than a bulky bag that smells like a hippie is hiding in my pocket.

Grace Murphy, defender of the downtrodden! Snarking one villain at a time with her acerbic wit and pointy boobs! If there was going to be super-natural mojo involved in my life, the least I could ask for was non-sagging boobs.

There are a lot of things in the world that are unexplainable - love at first sight, vegetable pizza, and potpourri, for instance. But I doubt your ex's murder is one of them.

Fils de putain

We are participants in a relationship and have the opportunity to help guide our companions into their brightest light.

Are you kidding me?You come here and use your stupid faerie mojo and then you back away from me? Is there anything in your golden head that makes sense? What,you thought, hey, Evie's probably having a bad night, why don't I go mess with her? While you're at it, there are probably some puppies you could kick!" I whipped around, stalking back to the diner.I should have known-had known-this was a bad idea.Idiot Evie.

You want to know what I'm wearing?" "Not unless you think it'll really get me excited." "I'm afraid clothes have to have women in them for you to get excited." "Maybe you could talk in a high voice." "Cut through the shit, Hap.

Most of us want to be authentic. Yet, we are not who we think we are. We are made up of a rich array of facets and possibilities, many of which we ignore because we label them as “bad”. We create a cardboard cutout image of ourselves to look good to others. The discord between who we are and the image we have to live up to slowly kills our aliveness. When we suppress parts of ourselves, it lowers our mojo, sense of fulfillment, leadership effectiveness and impact in the workplace.

It's not only how much money you make. It's what you do with it that determines your financial condition.

Improvement is hard. If it were easy, we’d already be better.

Tis not what you crave that feeds your soul... Tis my sunshine right after the rain When my ravishing rays unfold.

If you put off your dreams today, you create the momentum to put the off all the way to you deathbed.

You're brooding, Leonard, my friend. What's the problem?" "I blew it with Fitzgerald." "I don't think you're giving yourself enough credit. It was more like a nuclear disaster.

So it was that neither for the first time nor the last my verbal mojo, my knack for the written word, served to save my reckless ass.

I stared harder. Come on, vampire mojo. Do your thing. "Don't. Kill. Yourself." "Why. Are you. Talking. Like this?

Don’t look elsewhere. Look inside your dreams, and there you’ll find your mojo and muse.

If you have the bad MOJO of a situation or a person riding you down you must first remove that saddle.

Mojo is that positive spirit toward what we are doing now that starts from the inside and radiates to the outside.

Robert Farris Thompson, America’s most prominent historian of African art, says that funky is derived from the Ki-Kongo lu-fuki, meaning “positive sweat” of the sort you get from dancing or having sex, but not working. One’s mojo, which has to be “working” to attract a lover, is Ki-Kongo for “soul.” Boogie comes from mbugi, meaning “devilishly good.” And both jazz and jism likely derive from dinza, the Ki-Kongo word for “to ejaculate.

It’s not that I think you’re gonna knock me up with little, uh, trapdoors, or something, it’s that I only trust lysol so much and doorknobs are kinda germ magnets. No offense. Hopefully that doesn’t fuck with the mojo but I don’t need to explain a UTI from this.

Once upon a time, we were Africans involved in a unique lexicon of beliefs, lore, stories, and customs that were designed to help integrate us into an environment filled with plants, animals, elements, and a complex array of spirits. With the advent of slavery, the physical bond with the motherland was broken, but like seeds lifted from a ripe plant by wind, we found fertile ground in distant lands elsewhere.

Come on, sweetheart. I’m letting you do this. Do it.” When she didn’t respond, he added, “Listen, I know it’s easier when they’re not fucking looking at you.” Beckett turned and faced the wall. “I don’t know who hired you, but can I ask you for something?” He talked at the wall. Here comes the fast-talking, the mojo, the shout to his employees. “Could you make sure Cole doesn’t take credit for his handiwork last night? And can you follow up on that Chris guy?” Beckett turned his head a bit, listening for her answer. He still trusts me. He still trusts me with his brothers. I can’t do it.

Lou loved watching Al savor every bite. She mentally vowed to make him an amazing meal just to see him enjoy it. Maybe her Cuban pork with black beans and cilantro rice. That was a great summer feast- complete with mojitos and mojo sauce. If he savored a burger with such fervor, she he'd swoon over her cooking.

Compañera, cuando amábamos (for Juanita Ramos and other spik dykes) ¿Volverán, campañera, esas tardes sordas Cuando nos amábamos tiradas en las sombras bajo otoño? Mis ojos clavados en tu mirada Tu mirada que siempre retiraba al mundo Esas tardes cuando nos acostábamos en las nubes Mano en mano nos paseábamos por las calles Entre niños jugando handball Vendedores y sus sabores de carne chamuzcada. La gente mirando nuestras manos Nos pescaban los ojos y se sonreían cómplices en este asunto del aire suave. En un café u otro nos sentábamos bien cerquita. Nos gustaba todo: las bodegas tiznadas La música de Silvio, el ruido de los trenes Y habichuelas. Compañera, ¿Volverán esas tardes sordas cuando nos amábamos? ¿Te acuerdas cuando te decía ¡tócame!? ¿Cuándo ilesa carne buscaba carne y dientes labios En los laberintos de tus bocas? Esas tardes, islas no descubiertas Cuando caminábamos hasta la orilla. Mis dedos lentos andaban las lomas de tus pechos, Recorriendo la llanura de tu espalda Tus moras hinchándose en mi boca La cueva mojada y racima. Tu corazón en mi lengua hasta en mis sueños. Dos pescadoras nadando en los mares Buscando esa perla. ¿No te acuerdas como nos amábamos, compañera? ¿Volverán esas tardes cuando vacilábamos Pasos largos, manos entrelazadas en la playa? Las gaviotas y las brizas Dos manfloras vagas en una isla de mutua melodía. Tus tiernas palmas y los planetas que se caián. Esas tardes tiñadas de mojo Cuando nos entregábamos a las olas Cuando nos tirábamos En el zacate del parque Dos cuerpos de mujer bajo los árboles Mirando los barcos cruzando el río Tus pestañas barriendo mi cara Dormitando, oliendo tu piel de amapola. Dos extranjeras al borde del abismo Yo caía descabellada encima de tu cuerpo Sobre las lunas llenas de tus pechos Esas tardes cuando se mecía el mundo con mi resuello Dos mujeres que hacían una sola sombra bailarina Esas tardes andábamos hasta que las lámparas Se prendían en las avenidas. ¿Volverán, Compañera, esas tardes  cuando nos amábanos?

Do you think Archer is right about everyone here being de-magicked? Or maybe the fog, like, made his and Evan’s magic…de-magic.” Crossing over to the closet, I sighed and said, “I’m betting the kids here are de-magicked, but it doesn’t really matter.” I flung open the closet. Just as I’d thought, the only things hung up inside where Hex Hall uniforms. “I’m pretty much de-magicked myself these days,” I said to Jenna over my shoulder. “Also, maybe we should stop saying de-magicked. It’s starting to sound weird.” She sat up straighter. “What?” “You know, when you say things too much, and-“ “Sophie,” Jenna said, tilting her head and frowning at me. Sighing, I sat down on my own bed, facing her. “Thanks to some mojo from the Council, I’m currently powerless.” Her expression softening, Jenna breathed, “Oh, Soph. I’m so sorry.” “It’s not as bad as it sounds,” I told her. “My powers aren’t gone gone. They’re still bumping around in here, but I can’t use them unless I touch this particular-whoa.” “What?” I crossed the room to grip the footboard of Jenna’s bed. “There’s this spell in the Throne family grimoire. If I touch it, my powers will be restored. And Dad was sure the Casnoffs had the grimoire. It might be here, Jenna.” I let go of her bed to pace as my magic pounded inside me. “If we find it, I could be demoning up the place by dinnertime.

Either Kyle was lucky or his mojo had bowled over the headwaiter, because he and Deborah were waiting outside at one of these tables working on a bottle of mineral water and a plate of what appeared to be crab cakes. I grabbed one and took a bite as I slid into a chair facing Kyle. “Yummy,” I said. “This must be where good crabs go when they die.

Vivienne, one of these days, you are going to fall in love,” she says softly, and it’s my turn to gasp “That is the most hateful thing you have ever said to me, and now you’ve put that into the universe.” I put my hands up, shaking. “It’s like bad mojo.” “You mean karma,” she corrects me. “Whatever you want to call it,” I snap at her. “Take it back.

Logan nodded to confirm. "He's lost his mojo." "It's not lost," Charlie said, rapping on his sternum with his knuckles. "I just can't find it." "Yeah," Logan said. "That's what 'lost' means." "Right," Charlie said, "I was thinking of the 'dead' meaning of 'lost'. Like, 'lost at sea' or 'I'm sorry for your loss'." Logan shook his head and said, "Writers.

You're the one with the badge," I admitted, "but I'm the one being haunted by a seven-year-old in a ballerina costume.

The most reliable predictor of what you will be doing five minutes from now is what you are doing now.

When it comes to money, ignorance is NOT bliss. What you don't know CAN hurt you.

Once you know what you want in life... Like a magnet you attract the resources necessary to manifest the world you desire.

An artist is by definition a menace to conformity.

Failure is the breeding ground of innovation. How so, you say? Consider Thomas Edison's approach to failure: 'I have not failed, I've just found 10,000 ways that won't work.

Five qualities that you need to bring to an activity in order to do it well are: motivation, knowledge, ability, confidence, and authenticity.

Each day dawns with the promise of a personal miracle. Find some magic today. Even just a little bit can go a very long way.

I’d driven past this old gas station all my life and had mourned as the vegetation took it over and began to pull it down over the past few years. I knew, though, that no one in our rural mountain county was going to buy the place, not after someone had been murdered there twenty years ago. A single gas pump on a country road wasn’t enough incentive to take on that bad mojo.

Chloe's fingers flew over her keyboard. I raised an eyebrow at Hunter. "Is she Googling hunter-assholes? I doubt they have their own Web page." Chloe snorted. "You'd be surprised." "She's hacking the school files," Hunter said. "She does it all the time." "Don't they have security for that kind of thing?" Chloe snorted again. "Please." I knew that tone. Connor used it whenever someone called his computer mojo into question.

I don’t know when it happened, but somewhere between our first kiss and that first fuck, I came to the conclusion that Hailey needs sex. Good sex. And lots of it. I’ve caught glimpses of her steel, her confidence, her sexiness, usually in our online exchanges. But in person, it’s like she’s second-guessing herself all the time. The poor girl needs to get her mojo back, and I’ve decided I’m the man for the job. Just call me Matt the mojo maker.

Techno emerged in the early to mideighties in and around Detroit, at the hands of black middle-class DJs who for some reason idealized the glamour and suavity of European electronic pop and Italo disco, as it reached them via GQ and the radio DJ who called himself the Electrifying Mojo. They brought some rigor and a hint of Motown to it and created an industrial-sounding music that was funky, futuristic, and kind of arch—evoking the auto plants that were putting these kids’ parents out of work.

I decided, was to look at the common threads among the companies I’d already identified as having mojo. First, I could see that, unlike most entrepreneurs, their founders and leaders had recognized the full range of choices they had about the type of company they could create. They hadn’t accepted the standard menu of options as a given. They had allowed themselves to question the usual definitions of success in business and to imagine possibilities other than the ones all of us are familiar with.

These fucks next door. I got no problems with them yet, but I feel one brewing, way they watch me. They’re biding their time. I’d like to have you at my back, and there’s always the chance they’ll get you first, instead of me. I like the idea of a buffer.

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

Hap, even tough I'm a racist castrating bitch that wants you to be better than you are, wants you to do something with your life besides be a knockabout, do you think you could find it in your heart, in your itty-bitty white man's dick, to get a hard-on for me? In other words, want to fuck?

Putting my hands on my hips, I sighed. “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to Unseelie territory, and you’re all going to protect me with whatever faerie mojo you have, because I’m pretty sure the Dark Queen will not be very excited to see me. And then I’m going to talk to them.” “Talk to them?” the Light Queen asked. “Yes,” I said, trying to compose a poem on her beauty comparing her to the light of the dawn, to the rays of sunlight piercing clouds after a thunderstorm, to . . . Evelyn. I shook my head, trying to clear it. “Gosh, can’t you at least try to turn it down? Anyway. We’re going to talk to them. If they’re anything like your court, a lot of them probably think their queen is a freaking idiot.” The Light Queen’s side, white eyebrows rose like a question mark.

performance during PMS: Take 250 milligrams of magnesium, 45 milligrams of zinc, 80 milligrams of aspirin (baby aspirin), and 1 gram of omega-3 fatty acids (flaxseed and fish oil) each night for the 7 days before your period starts. Pretraining: Take 5 to 7 grams of branched-chain amino acid supplement (BCAAs) to fight the lack of mojo. These amino acids cross the blood-brain barrier and decrease the estrogen-progesterone effect on central nervous system fatigue. In training: Consume a few more carbohydrates per hour. In this high-hormone phase, aim for about 0.45 gram of carbohydrate per pound of body weight (about 61 grams for a 135-pound woman) per hour. In the low-hormone phase (first 2 weeks of the cycle), you can go a bit lower—about 0.35 gram of carbohydrate per pound of body weight (about 47 grams for a 135-pound woman) per hour. (For reference: 2.2 kilograms = 1 pound.) Post-training: Recovery is critical. Progesterone is extremely catabolic (breaks muscle down) and inhibits recovery. Aim to consume 20 to 25 grams of protein within 30 minutes of finishing your session. Overall you should aim to get 0.9 to 1 gram of protein per pound per day (a 135-pound woman needs about 122 to 135 grams of protein per day; see the Roar Daily Diet Cheat Sheet for Athletes for more information). THE MARTIAL ARTIST WHO BEAT HER BLOAT It may not be nice to fool Mother Nature, but there are definitely times when you need to trick her a little.

Cade quickly checked his cell phone. Of course Vaughn, with his FBI superpowers of perception, had to comment. “Got another offer on the table that expires soon?” he asked. “Go away.” Vaughn grinned. “You’re quite circumspect about this situation with Brooke. I find that very intriguing, don’t you, Hux?” No reply. “Hux?” Vaughn looked to his right, where Huxley was reading something on his phone. With an unmistakable smile, he tucked his phone into the pocket of his impeccably tailored Ralph Lauren suit, and then noticed Cade and Vaughn looking at him. “Sorry. What were we talking about?” “Just giving Cade crap about a certain sexy general counsel. But never mind that.” Vaughn pointed suspiciously. “What’s going on here, with the phone and the sneaky smile?” He studied his partner. “Don’t tell me you actually have a hot date tonight.” “Okay, I won’t tell you.” Huxley took a sip of his beer, deliberately leaving them hanging. “Look at you,” Cade said. “With who?” “Addison.” “Addison? Who’s—” It took Vaughn a second, then his mouth fell open. “Agent Simms? When did this happen?” Huxley swirled his glass, looking quite coy. “Things have been percolating for a while. But they shifted into high gear after our fake date at Sogna.” Vaughn threw out his hands in exasperation. “First Morgan, now you. Plus McCall’s getting married next month, and Pallas is having a kid. Purposely. Am I the only one not getting laid as part of an FBI sting operation?” Huxley pretended to muse over this. “Maybe you should take some time. Figure out what’s gone wrong with your mojo these days.” “My mojo is perfectly fine,” Vaughn assured him. Cade was curious. “Is it serious?” Huxley smiled. “Yeah. I think so.” Vaughn scoffed at this. “Come on. You’ve only been seeing her for, what, a month?” Huxley shrugged. “I like her. She likes me. It’s not that complicated.” Cade and Vaughn threw each other looks. Right. “Amateur,” Vaughn said, with a conspiratorial grin. “Amateur, huh? I’ll be sure to ask Addison tonight if she agrees with that assessment.” And if his confident smile was any indication, Agent Seth Huxley wasn’t worried about the answer to that one bit.

Sod it. If he laid a finger on my David, I’d just have to use my newfound martial arts mojo and kick him in the Knuts.

Grand theft mojo.

That evil mojo thing was in my pocket, though, wasn’t it?” she demanded. If it hadn’t been, she was just plain-and-simple cursed.

she was sitting in the drive-through of the Dairy Queen Bank & Trust withdrawing money to pay an anonymous blackmailer who might have murdered Steve Chasen, and keeping it all a tidy secret from her long-lost boyfriend who had no idea they had a history together. She thought her head might explode.

Fennel Spell Hang fennel from doors and windows to ward off evil energy and entities. Fiery Wall of Protection Spells Fiery Wall of Protection is among the most famous classic condition formulas. Its name invokes the power of Archangel Michael’s protective flaming sword. The formula may be consecrated to the archangel. Fiery Wall’s basic ingredients include such powerful protective agents as salt, frankincense and myrrh. Its red color, the color of protection, derives from dragon’s blood powder. See the Formulary for specific instructions: the dried powder may be used as incense or magic powder. When the powder is added to oil, Fiery Wall of Protection Oil is created. Fiery Wall of Protection Spell (1) Candle Carve a red or white candle with your name, identifying information, hopes, and desires. Dress it with Fiery Wall of Protection Oil and burn. Consecrate the candle to the Archangel Michael if desired. Fiery Wall of Protection Spell (2) Extra-strength Mojo Place a handful of Fiery Wall of Protection Powder in a charm bag. Drizzle it with Fiery Wall of Protection Oil and Protection Oil. Add a medallion depicting Michael the Archangel and/or a tiny doll-sized sword: a fancy tooth pick works well. Carry it in your pocket. Replace the powder weekly, dressing with fresh oil. Cleanse, charge, and consecrate the charms as needed. Fiery Wall of Protection Spell (3) Incense Protect against a threatened curse by burning Fiery Wall of Protection Powder as incense. To intensify the protection, add powdered agrimony and/or vervain. Fiery Wall of Protection Spell (4) Powder Circle Cast a circle of Fiery Wall of Protection Powder around yourself, your home, or whatever needs protection. Envision a circle of enchanted flames magically surrounding and protecting you, something like the magic fire encircling The Ring of the Nibelung’s valkyrie swan-maiden Brunhilde: the flames are cool and won’t harm those whom they protect yet serve as a burning boundary preventing the entrance of all evil. Stay within the circle for as long as necessary. Carry the powder within a charm bag so that circles and boundary lines may be spontaneously cast as needed. Fiery Wall of Protection Spell (5) Quick Fix Soak a cotton ball in Fiery Wall of Protection Oil and carry it in your pocket or tucked into your bra.

I truly haven’t. You’ve messed up my mojo.

I saw myself bending her over the desk, hiking up her dress, and taking her right now. And I saw her liking it. I spent a full minute on that thought before groaning inwardly. I was a dick. An unprofessional, single-minded dick and I didn’t like small, curvy girls who left their mojo all over me.

I am unbelievably nervous. It is most unlike me. This girl is really messing with my mojo.

a women's heart can be her greatest weapon or her greatest treasure, when we learn to focus our mojo on what we want, women become unstoppable

Somewhere Else Discouraging, or training a cat away from a certain area is impossible to achieve as a human. This is because it has to happen within two seconds with consistent intensity every single time they come within the forbidden perimeter If you’re at work, you can’t spray the cat with water when she jumps on the counter. Do yourself a favor and get a remote training device! You won’t need it for more than a few weeks. For instance, one such device is a compressed air canister with an electric eye. The cat jumps up on the counter, the can sprays a spurt of air. The cat jumps down. She won’t have to do this too many days in a row before she just decides that the counter is unfriendly. That being said, don’t forget my rule of thumb when discouraging a cat from doing something: Behind every “No” there needs to be a “Yes!” If your cats are insistent about the counter, use your cat mojo and figure out why it’s so important. Then, give them a perch right nearby that’s acceptable to you and achieves the important objective for them.

Your users are looking for a quick response. Work on your first response.

Just like any other occupation Entrepreneurship also has stage of remorse. All you need to do is to go more deep to know your calling better!

I still ponder the wonders of the world around me. I find it difficult to understand, sometimes, how we, as humans, can jaunt about in our daily lives, never paying attention to what lies just in front of us. We’re so “connected,” so dialed into the Internet and television and mobile apps and social media that we barely realize where we are at any given moment.

Kim, Di, and Gina took me to see The Dead Milkmen. Mojo Nixon was opening up for them. I was going to wear a t-shirt of The Sisters of Mercy, but Di specifically told me not to wear a goth shirt to a punk show. Di remarked, “I swear, some people will beat your ass if you have a t-shirt of any kind of band that is not hardcore. There was this kid who wore a Depeche Mode t-shirt to an Adrenaline O. D. show. They pulled his clothes off and threw him out into the parking lot.

sexy vampire mojo.

Not me,” Val disagreed. “I’ve lost my mojo. Let Max go see her.

And he was still breathtakingly sexy... all muscles and male, leather and Levi's.

I guarantee there is nothing more depressing than knowing morons have complete power over you.

Every time you used, it was a risk searching for a high just like the first time, a high you would never find again.

I am The Black Book. Between my top and my bottom, my right and my left, I hold what I have seen, what I have done, and what I have thought. I am everything I have hated: labor without harvest; death without honor; life without land or law. I am a black woman holding a white child in her arms singing to her own baby lying unattended in the grass. I am all the ways I have failed: I am the black slave owner, the buyer of Golden Peacock Bleach Crème and Dr. Palmer’s Skin Whitener, the self- hating player of the dozens; I am my own nigger joke. I am all the ways I survived: I am tun-mush, hoecake cooked on a hoe; I am Fourteen black jockeys winning the Kentucky Derby. I am the creator of hundreds of patented inventions; I am Lafitte the pirate and Marie Laveau. I am Bessie Smith winning a roller-skating contest; I am quilts and ironwork, fine carpentry and lace. I am the wars I fought, the gold I mined, The horses I broke, the trails I blazed. I am all the things I have seen: The New York Caucasian newspaper, the scarred back of Gordon the slave, the Draft Riots, darky tunes, and mer- chants distorting my face to sell thread, soap, shoe polish coconut. And I am all the things I have ever loved: scuppernong wine, cool baptisms in silent water, dream books and number playing. I am the sound of my own voice singing “Sangaree.” I am ring-shouts, and blues, ragtime and gospels. I am mojo, voodoo, and gold earrings. I am not complete here; there is much more, but there is no more time and no more space . . . and I have journeys to take, ships to name, and crews.

I thought about Hanson. I wanted to be mad at him, but he hadn’t done anything but respond to what was there to respond to. Hell, I liked the big bastard. Really. He was a swell guy. I just hoped his dick would fall off.

Trenutek zatem smo utonili v čudovito tišino, kar pa meni ni nikoli pomenilo absolutne, brezglasne tihosti. Taka v gorah sploh ne obstaja. Vedno se od nekod priplazi nek zvok, včasih pritajeno skrivnosten vzdih vetra, ki ga bolj čutiš kot res slišiš, pogosto pa je tišina narave kar glasna. V mojo predstavo o šepetu tišine spadajo tudi prvobitni zvoki narave: če v robeh potegne veter, če zaropota kamen, če zaškriplje ledenik, če zažvižga gams ali zapivka kavka. Celo šumi moje lastne hoje, udarci cepina ali palice ne izničijo gorske tišine, to stori šele izgovorjena beseda.

She came for the deer,” I whispered. Seeing the cougar from another angle, I noticed her hanging teats. “She’s lactating, which means she has cubs close by. The ATVs have probably been scaring away the game. She’s getting desperate.” “I appreciate the Nature Channel commentary,” Corey said. “But it’s really not helping, Maya.” “Sorry.” “Think you could use some of that animal whisperer mojo? Tell her the deer looks tasty, but she can have it. In fact, I insist.” “You’ve forgotten everything my dad taught us all about dealing with big cats, haven’t you?” “Oddly, it’s slipped my mind. Something to do with seeing six-inch fangs a foot from my throat.” “They’re two inches, tops, and she’s a meter away.” “Maya…” “Step one, maintain eye contact. Step two, stand up. Never crouch around a cat--it makes you look like prey.” He shot to his feet so fast the cougar started, then snarled. “Um, move slowly,” I said. “Thanks.

Think you could use some of that animal whisperer mojo? Tell her the deer looks tasty, but she can have it. In fact, I insist.” “You’ve forgotten everything my dad taught us all about dealing with big cats, haven’t you?” “Oddly, it’s slipped my mind. Something to do with seeing six-inch fangs a foot from my throat.

You gotta admit, that’s one sweet power,” I said. “You think so?” “Um, yeah. Duh.” He glanced over. “Well, I think being able to change into a cougar is cool, which you obviously aren’t so sure of. Maybe we can switch.” I laughed. “I wish. Shape-shifting will probably be cool, eventually, but changing from human to cat? I don’t think that’s going to tickle. Persuasion, though? I don’t see the downside.” “No? So if I have this power, how do I know why people agree with me? Was I right when I persuaded the others not to go back for Nicole? Or did Hayley and Sam just agree because of my power?” “No, you were right. And even if you did use your mojo, it obviously didn’t work on me.” “That’s good.” He looked at me. “If I do have this power, I hope it never works on you. I wouldn’t want that.” “Don’t worry. You can count on me to keep telling you you’re full of crap. And in this case, I’m not sure it was working on anyone. Corey stayed undecided. I think you have to switch it on, like you do sometimes.” He nodded. Another quiet moment. Then, “So you can tell when I switch it on?” “I can.” “Good. If I ever do it with you, accidentally, stop me, okay?” “You think I wouldn’t?” I knocked his shoulder. “Believe me, you are not using any of that mojo on me. Ever. You want to convince me of anything, you gotta be you.” “Good.” He caught my gaze and held it for a moment, then looked away quickly and said again, “Good.

So if I have this power, how do I know why people agree with me? Was I right when I persuaded the others not to go back for Nicole? Or did Hayley and Sam just agree because of my power?” “No, you were right. And even if you did use your mojo, it obviously didn’t work on me.” “That’s good.” He looked at me. “If I do have this power, I hope it never works on you. I wouldn’t want that.” “Don’t worry. You can count on me to keep telling you you’re full of crap.

. I think you have to switch it on, like you do sometimes.” He nodded. Another quiet moment. Then, “So you can tell when I switch it on?” “I can.” “Good. If I ever do it with you, accidentally, stop me, okay?” “You think I wouldn’t?” I knocked his shoulder. “Believe me, you are not using any of that mojo on me. Ever. You want to convince me of anything, you gotta be you.” “Good.” He caught my gaze and held it for a moment, then looked away quickly and said again, “Good.

It's not enough to address the symptoms that become hair-pulling annoyances to us. Rather, we must find the opposite of that anxiety and coax that Raw Cat quality out to the point where it dominates and eventually extinguishes the anxiety.

... when it comes to multiple-cat homes, that's where rules go to die.

Easy, as we know in our own personal journey, tends to keep us from moving forward.

Remember always that the perfect circumstances for your dream tour will never exist. “You will never simultaneously have infinite time, money, freedom and mojo,” says Alastair Humphreys. “So the best time is now.

The journalist Mason Currey, who spent half a decade cataloging the habits of famous thinkers and writers (and from whom I learned the previous two examples), summarized this tendency toward systematization as follows: There is a popular notion that artists work from inspiration—that there is some strike or bolt or bubbling up of creative mojo from who knows where… but I hope [my work] makes clear that waiting for inspiration to strike is a terrible, terrible plan. In fact, perhaps the single best piece of advice I can offer to anyone trying to do creative work is to ignore inspiration.

Somewhere on the rocky voyage from the garage to the fully managed organization, they get it backward. They begin to view the passion as something they can use to build the business. That may well be true, of course. The problem is, if you keep heading in that direction, you’ll eventually lose whatever it was that gave the company its mojo in the early days. Contributing something great and unique to the world will become less and less of a priority. By the time the second or third generation of owners takes over, there’s a good chance that the passion and the business will have gone their separate ways, and the company will have become just another income-producing property. If it’s acquired, it won’t be because the acquirer’s stockholders share the passion or believe in the mission (whatever the new management may say). They’ll want to own it only if they think it will improve their financial returns. People will work there mainly because they need a job. Customers will buy its products and services only if they offer the best value for the money. The company will be an economic mechanism and little more. Pretty much everything else will have been lost.