Ms Money Quotes

. . . Practice any art, music, singing, dancing, acting, drawing, painting, sculpting, poetry, fiction, essays, reportage, no matter how well or badly, not to get money and fame, but to experience becoming, to find out what's inside you, to make your soul grow. Seriously! I mean starting right now, do art and do it for the rest of your lives. Draw a funny or nice picture of Ms. Lockwood, and give it to her. Dance home after school, and sing in the shower and on and on. Make a face in your mashed potatoes. Pretend you're Count Dracula. Here's an assignment for tonight, and I hope Ms. Lockwood will flunk you if you don't do it: Write a six line poem, about anything, but rhymed. No fair tennis without a net. Make it as good as you possibly can. But don't tell anybody what you're doing. Don't show it or recite it to anybody, not even your girlfriend or parents or whatever, or Ms. Lockwood. OK? Tear it up into teeny-weeny pieces, and discard them into widely separated trash recepticals [sic]. You will find that you have already been gloriously rewarded for your poem. You have experienced becoming, learned a lot more about what's inside you, and you have made your soul grow.

There isn’t a woman I know who hasn’t said they wished they’d listened to their mother… especially where the three Big Ms of women’s lives are concerned: mothering, money, and men.

When a government is dependent upon bankers for money, they and not the leaders of the government control the situation, since the hand that gives is above the hand that takes. Money has no motherland; financiers are without patriotism and without decency; their sole object is gain.

When I tell people this story, they assume the miracle I am referring to during that long-ago blizzard was the birth of a baby. True, that was astonishing. But that day I witnessed a greater wonder. As Christina held my hand and Ms. Mina held Mama's, there was a moment- one heartbeat, one breath- where all the differences in schooling and money and skin color evaporated like mirages in a desert. Where everyone was equal, and it was just one woman, helping another. That miracle, I've spent thirty-nine years waiting to see again.

You'll never see a U-Haul behind a hearse,' Denzel Washington often said as we worked together on 'Fences.' 'I don't care how much money you have or what level of notoriety you've achieved, you can't take any of it with you.' There is a cap on earthly success, a ceiling on the amount of joy that possessions and awards can bring before disillusionment sets in. Our appearance, our prosperity, the applause: all of it is so fleeting. But a life of true significance has unlimited impact. It is measured in how well we've loved those around us, how much we've given away, how many seeds we've sown along our path. During her ninety-six years, Ms. [Cicely] Tyson has discovered the potent elixir: she has lived a life of that is bigger than she is, an existence grounded in purpose and flourishing in service to others. That is her defining masterpiece. That is her enduring gift to us all. [Viola Davis, Foreword]

When we break 5M’s of Manufacturing Efficiency - Men, Machine, Materials, Methods & Money to personal level, the first two M’s will spell Minutes & Mind, and rest remain constant!

Washington in 1965. We instinctively measure advantage in terms of the three M’s because men, money, and matériel are the easiest and most obvious ways to make sense of a battle. The only way to appreciate the threat that the Viet Cong posed was to actually listen to what they had to say—to look past the armor and see the man. The book you have just read has tried to persuade you to think that way. Men, money, and matériel aren’t always the deciding factors in a battle. In fact, what the inverted U-shaped curve tells us is that having too much money and matériel is as debilitating as having too little. Being an underdog—having nothing to lose—opens up possibilities. The Impressionists were better for shunning the Salon. History and experience ought to teach us to be suspicious of Goliaths, because the very thing that makes the giant so terrifying is also the source of his weakness. David understood that, as he sized up his opponent long ago in the Valley of Elah.

As Christina held my hand and Ms. Mina held Mama’s, there was a moment—one heartbeat, one breath—where all the differences in schooling and money and skin color evaporated like mirages in a desert. Where everyone was equal, and it was just one woman, helping another. That

But that day I witnessed a greater wonder. As Christina held my hand and Ms. Mina held Mama’s, there was a moment—one heartbeat, one breath—where all the differences in schooling and money and skin color evaporated like mirages in a desert. Where everyone was equal, and it was just one woman, helping another.

As Christina held my hand and Ms. Mina held Mama's, there was a moment--one heartbeat, one breath--where all the differences in schooling and money and skin color evaporated like mirages in a desert. Where everyone was equal, and it was just one woman, helping another. That miracle, I've spent thirty-nine years waiting to see again.

But that day I witnessed a greater wonder. As Christina held my hand and Ms. Mina held Mama’s, there was a moment—one heartbeat, one breath—where all the differences in schooling and money and skin color evaporated like mirages in a desert. Where everyone was equal, and it was just one woman, helping another. That miracle, I’ve spent thirty-nine years waiting to see again.

She had an awfully huge void to fill in your life all of a sudden, right from the beginning of her life. The nature of stress is not always the usual stuff that people think of. It's not the external stress of war or money loss or somebody dying, it is actually the internal stress of having to adjust oneself to somebody else. Cancer and ALS and MS and rheumatoid arthritis and all these other conditions, it seems to me, happen to people who have a poor sense of themselves as independent persons. On the emotional level, that is- they can be highly accomplished in the arts or intellectually- but on an emotional level they have a poorly differentiated sense of self. They live in reaction to others without ever really sensing who they themselves are.

When I tell people this story, they assume the miracle I am referring to during that long-ago blizzard was the birth of a baby. True, that was astonishing. But that day I witnessed a greater wonder. As Christina held my hand and Ms. Mina held Mama’s, there was a moment—one heartbeat, one breath—where all the differences in schooling and money and skin color evaporated like mirages in a desert. Where everyone was equal, and it was just one woman, helping another.

Many American women over forty are not worried about their wrinkles and don’t give a rat’s ass about enhancing them. There’s this scientific fact called gravity. Gravity happens to us all, men and women. Some women and men over forty spend money fighting gravity with cosmetics and cosmetic surgery. That’s their ball game. That’s their parade. More power to them. There was once this woman named Gertrude Stein. She was the aesthetic opposite of Marilyn Monroe. I never knew Ms. Stein but from what I’ve read about her life I would venture to say that she was approximately (there’s no way of measuring such things…well, there are a couple of ways) a million times happier than Marilyn Monroe. Sexy on the outside doesn’t do much for ugly on the inside. This isn’t to say that Marilyn Monroe was ugly on the inside. I’m sure she was really fucking gorgeous on the inside, too. Bottom line: sparkle on the INSIDE can enhance ANYTHING on the outside.

They put me in jail. Holy shit. They put me in fucking jail. Call my mother and tell her I love her, call my father and tell him I can’t loan him any more money, call my grandmother and tell her she needs to stop day drinking. I am never getting out of this. All right, on the plus side, it’s not like I’m sitting in a city jail. It’s a hotel holding room, which basically means beige-colored carpet with beige walls and a beige futon. In Vegas, if they put you in beige, you are seriously fucked. No sequins or rhinestones anywhere means I must have done something abominable. Okay. I take three deep breaths, trying to achieve my zone neutrality. Or something. I don’t know! Okay, keep calm, Julia. Maybe they can help. Maybe they can help piece together whatever insane stuff you did last night. Or rather, the weird shit that your David Tennant personality did. On second thought, maybe talking about Doctor Who would be a very bad thing right now. The door opens, and Gray Suit— his name’s actually Todd, but I’m sticking with Gray Suit— enters and sits down in a chair opposite me. “Now Ms. Stevens—” “I’m not going to prison,” I blurt out. “I’m too soft. I watched Orange is the New Black. I don’t want to eat tampon sandwiches.” Gray Suit blinks slowly. “Okay. I’ll bear that in mind.” “Look, what the hell am I even doing here?” I snap. Great, Julia. Get snippy with the authorities. This’ll go down swimmingly. “What is happening?” Gray Suit sighs. “It’s about what you did last night, Ms. Stevens.

The only things you feel are greed, mockery, and occasionally you probably get a hard-on, but I bet it’s not over a woman, it’s over money or an artifact or a book. You’re no different than any other player in this game. You’re no different than V’lane. You’re just a cold, mercenary—” His hand was on my throat, and he was crushing my back with his body into the cold steel beam behind me. “Yes, I have loved, Ms. Lane, and although it’s none of your business, I have lost. Many things. And no, I am not like any other player in this game and I will never be like V’lane, and I get a hard-on a great deal more often than occasionally.” He leaned fully against me and I gasped. “Sometimes it’s over a spoiled little girl, not a woman at all. And yes, I trashed the bookstore when I couldn’t find you. You’ll have to choose a new bedroom, too. And I’m sorry your pretty little world got all screwed up, but that defines you.” His hand relaxed on my throat. “And I am going to tattoo you, Ms. Lane, however and wherever I please.” His gaze dropped down over my sun-kissed, lightly oiled, very bare skin. The delicately strung together hot pink triangles covered very little, and while I’d not minded so much on the beach, being nearly naked around Barrons felt a lot like going to a shark convention lightly basted in blood.

and the two of you started dating… he proposed on New Year’s Eve and you married in April of the following year.’ I nod, twisting the wedding ring on my finger. ‘And, just to confirm, you had no suspicion that he was anyone other than Dominic Stephen Gill?’ I think back to the little anomalies. The tiny signs that I was only too happy to ignore. ‘No, not at all,’ I say. ‘I’d be more than happy to take a lie detector test to that effect.’ For Christ sake, why did you say that? I ask myself. What do you think this is, an episode of Law and Order? DS Sutherland’s sorrowful expression returns, as he closes the cover of the file. ‘That won’t be necessary, Ms Palmer.’ April arrives, with its cloud of blossom and canopy of acid-bright greenery. I sign the documents selling my interest in Comida Catering Ltd and bank a substantial sum of money. I attend my first antenatal ultrasound appointment as Alice Palmer, having first removed the rings from my left hand and shoved them into the back of a drawer. And I receive a Metropolitan Police compliment slip, with three handwritten words Please See Attached. The attached is a formal document, a ‘Recorded Crime Outcome’, confirming that there would be sufficient evidence to charge the individual using the alias Ben MacAlister with the murder of Dominic Stephen Gill, if said individual were still alive. A check of the envelope reveals nothing more. I take out my phone and

Her mother cleaved him, cracking open like a peach pit split the tender centre mewling, a monster turned a baby. They snatched up the infant, innocent, beastly, from Half World they fled, they fled to the Realm of Flesh. Gee could not stop the words in the terrible book from popping up in his mind. The images that formed filled him with fear and fascination. Confusion. A creeping sense of recognition. The déjà vu of dreams…. Half World. The words whispered, echoed inside him. Like something almost familiar. Something he’d forgotten— How could Popo do this to him? Gee pounded the heels of his fists on the thick table. He pounded and pounded until he could feel the physical pain. Maybe Popo had written this book herself…. Maybe it was an elaborate psychological experiment? Maybe she was a psychotic, abusive person. Those irregularities in his adoption…. There were no papers. He had no birth certificate. His grandmother had found someone to forge documents. It had cost a lot of money. Popo had kidnapped him from somewhere and his real parents were still looking for him, far far away. That made more sense than the gibberish book. He wasn’t a murderous monster from a different Realm! Ridiculous! Mad. Popo! he raged. You did this to me! It’s all your fault! That’s why he didn’t have a real name. Baby G. Like a foundling in a basket. Baby X. John Doe. Why hadn’t she given him a proper name? The school had written his name as “Gee” when they saw Ms. Wei, saw that his papers identified him only as “G.” They must have thought she was illiterate. Did the teachers think it would make him more Asian? Because it hadn’t! When he’d finally asked his popo about his real name, she had been silent for a long time. You must seek your own name, she finally said. When the time comes.

Before Ms. magazine was a gleam in Gloria Steinem’s eye, men had quite a deal. Married middle-class men often controlled the purse while enjoying the pleasures of a full-time homemaker, who might work a few hours here and there for “pin money” they could spend on themselves. Mothers of small children seldom worked full-time.

My first one is All Money Ain’t Good Money,” Ms. Greene said to the group, nodding her head. “This is so true. Our community is notorious for wanting a hook up and not paying their outstanding invoices. Like you said, discounts are great, if offered,” she paused. “But they shouldn’t be expected because I’m black and you’re black. It’s very frustrating when our customers say that our prices are too high, then go to non-black businesses and pay the same, if not more…

Loans NRIs can give loans to resident Indians on a repatriable or non-repatriable basis. NRIs can also receive loans from residents. Loan from NRIs in foreign currency or on a repatriable basis A resident Indian can borrow up to US dollars 250,000 from NRI close relatives on a repatriation basis i.e. on repayment, the NRI can credit the funds in an NRE account and take this money back without any restrictions. The NRI should be a close relative of the borrower. Please check ‘Who is your relative’ for details. The amount of loan should be received by an inward remittance or by debit to the NRE/FCNR account. The loan should be a minimum of 1 year and without any interest. The funds cannot be used for agricultural/plantation/real estate business or for relending. Income: As the loan should be interest-free, no income can be generated. Taxability: As there is no income, there is no tax. Loan from NRIs in Indian rupees or on a non-repatriable basis A resident, not being a company incorporated in India, may borrow in rupees from an NRI on a non- repatriation basis. The period of loan should be 3 years or less and the rate of interest should not exceed 2% over the prevailing bank rate at the time of the loan. The loan has to be utilized for meeting the borrower’s personal requirement or for his business purposes. The funds cannot be used for agricultural/plantation/real estate business or for relending or for investment in shares, securities or immovable property. For example, Ms. Isumati has given an unsecured loan to her father’s firm earning 15% interest. If she goes to the UK for further studies and becomes an NRI, while she may continue with the loan, RBI rules would apply. The funds cannot be used for real estate business and if the bank rate is 10%, she cannot be paid more than 12% interest on her loan. Her father would also need to deduct TDS @ 30.9% on the interest. Income: Income from loans given to residents is interest. Taxability: The interest income on loans given is taxable for NRIs. Loans to NRIs NRIs are allowed to borrow from a bank/authorized

People who have money never seem to understand that people without it always worry about it,” I

For some time now, Germany has had cruise ships visiting Cuba, such as the MS Deutschland, which can accommodate 513 passengers and has a crew of 260 members. She is known as das Traumschiff or the Dream Ship and is Germany’s television answer to the Love boat. With a displacement of 22,400 GT, the ship brought European tourists with their Euros as stimulus money to Cuba. However, on Monday, February 23, 2015, it was announced, that the operating company had declared bankruptcy. It was expected that finding new investors, and restructuring under the German debtor-in-possession management act, known as Eigenverwaltung, would allow the MS Deutschland to continue her scheduled visits. However, on July 27, 2015 with new owners it was announced that the ship would sail using two distinct names. For one part of the year the ship would be the MS World Odyssey having “Semesters at Sea” for students and for the other part of the year it would sail for the travel company Phoenix Reisen, using its regular name, the MS Deutschland.

Nothing happens to the kid, or you will not have enough money to keep yourself out of jail, or at least the nut house.” “I am not crazy, Ms. Blake. I’m a woman scorned.” “He was married to you for twenty-five years. I think the poor bastard suffered enough.” That was it. She turned on the stiletto points of her expensive shoes and stalked out. If I’d known that that would make her leave I’d have said it sooner. Seemed this was my week for people wanting my very “alive” zombies for very bad purposes.

Srivastava first found the fraud committed by Shumana Sen by illegally granting a reimbursement of Rs.1.46 crores ($325,000[11]) to NDTV by fudging the accounts and Tax Returns of NDTV. He then found a series of favors she received from NDTV for hushing up fudging in accounts by the TV channel, which employed her husband at an exorbitant salary of more than Rs.15 lakhs per annum in 2005, while most of the prominent journalists were getting around half of that. Many favors were granted to Shumana Sen including all expenses paid foreign vacations with entire family [affidavit of Ms. Shumana Sen and her partner-in-fraud Ashima Neb before Delhi High Court, Writ Petition (C) No.1373 of 2011 titled as “Shumana Sen and Anr. Vs. S K Srivastava and Ors.”, para 3.43]. Srivastava also found that Ashima Neb was part of this racket and had actively colluded and conspired with Shumana Sen and Abhisar Sharma in facilitating NDTV frauds and had shared the spoils of the grand fraudulent exercise for laundering the illegal black money of NDTV through evasion of Income Tax.

The likes of you and I cannot “give” to the federal government, as under the Federal Acquisition Regulations this is considered to be a risk for exerting undue influence. But the CDC has established a nonprofit “CDC Foundation.” According to the CDC’s own website [419]: Established by Congress as an independent, nonprofit organization, the CDC Foundation is the sole entity authorized by Congress to mobilize philanthropic partners and private-sector resources to support CDC’s critical health protection mission. Likewise, the NIH has established the “Foundation for the National Institutes of Health,” currently headed by CEO Dr. Julie Gerberding (formerly CDC director, then president of Merck Vaccines, then chief patient officer and executive vice president, Population Health & Sustainability at Merck and Company—where she had responsibility for Merck’s ESG score compliance). Dr. Gerberding’s career provides a case history illustrating the ties between the administrative state and corporate America. These congressionally chartered nonprofit organizations provide a vehicle whereby the medical-pharmaceutical complex can funnel money into the NIH and CDC to influence both research agendas and policies.

He was tall and thin with a thatch of unruly black hair. His suit was impeccable. His tie matched his pocket square. And he spoke with a British accent. “Sorry to interrupt,” he said politely. “But I believe you’re in my seat.” “You’ve got the wrong room,” grumbled Stubbs. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m having a conference with my client.” “Except, according to this Substitution of Counsel form, she’s my client,” the other man replied as he showed Stubbs a piece of paper. This brought an instant smile to Sara’s face. Stubbs eyed the man. “That doesn’t make any sense. She can’t afford a fancy lawyer like you. She doesn’t have any money.” “Of course she doesn’t have any money. She’s twelve. Twelve-year-olds don’t have money. They have bicycles and rucksacks. This one, however, also happens to have an attorney. This paper says I’ve been retained to represent Ms. Sara Maria Martinez.” He turned to her and smiled. “Is that you?” “Yes, sir.” “Brilliant. That means I’m in the right place.” “Who retained you?” asked the public defender. “An interested party,” said the man. “Beyond that, it’s not your concern. So if you’ll please leave, Sara and I have much to talk about. We’re due before a judge shortly.” Stubbs mumbled to himself as he shoveled his papers into his briefcase. “I’m going to check this out.” “There’s a lovely lady named Valerie who can help you,” said the British man. “She’s with the clerk of the court on the seventh floor.” “I know where she is,” Stubbs snapped as he squeezed past the man into the hallway. He started to say something else, but instead just made a frustrated noise and stormed off. Once Stubbs was gone, the new attorney closed the door and sat across from Sara. “I’ve never seen that before,” he marveled. “He literally left the room in a huff.” She had no idea who might have hired an attorney for her, but she was certainly happy with the change. “I’ve never seen it either.

Genetically modified or transgenic mice expressing defective T cells develop a mouse version of MS that begins with paralysis of the tail. The mice avoid this fate if they are treated to a gnotobiotic life, but develop paralysis if they are transferred to cages in which mice with normal guts had been housed and had defecated. Formation of a normal gut microbiota leads to nerve damage. The immune system of the germ-free mice is defective, but, in this case, the faulty defenses do not stimulate disease as long as bacteria are excluded. Another interesting observation is that the severity of the autoimmune response is responsive to the types of bacteria that colonize the gnotobiotic gut. This raises the possibility of treating inflammatory and autoimmune diseases by changing a patient’s diet or through probiotics. We

Flair Hickory, celebrity counsel for the defense, stood, and not for the first time, Wendy wondered how Dan Mercer had the money to afford him. Flair wore his customary gray suit with thick pink stripes, pink shirt, pink tie. He crossed the room in a way that might be modestly described as “theatrical,” but it was more like something Liberace might have done if Liberace had the courage to be really flamboyant. “Ms.

Human beings have basic survival needs – food, shelter, health, companionship, rest. From a marketing standpoint, it used to be relatively easy to sell to these basic human needs. But in our era and society, marketing messages have to be much more sophisticated than talking to the need for survival. Marketing these days talks much more to our desire for status, control, ease, success, and attractiveness. We’ll all pay big money for any product that effectively promises those

Before wrapping up this chapter, let us look at one of the deadly scams in the Indian primary market history. There was company named ‘MS shoes east’. Shares of this company traded in Rs 150-200 range throughout the year 1994. But towards December 1994 it spurted to Rs 500 without any justifiable rationale behind the raise. Its promoter Pavan Sachedeva and his broker artificially manipulated the stock price to this level.   By February 1995, the company devised an expansion plan for an estimated expense Rs 700 crores. It proposed to raise around Rs 428 crores by means of Fully convertible bonds. These bonds were to be sold at Rs 199 each through public issue. The idea was to provoke people to subscribe the issue with a hope of converting this bond of Rs 199 to a share of Rs 500.   Well, his brokers was constantly buying the stocks from the open market to maintain the price at that high level. But the situation had already worsened. He had bought too much and had too little money at hand that he could not pay the stock exchange for all the purchases he made. BSE could not give money to the sellers of that security. Things turned out to be serious. You may find it hard to believe  - the BSE was shut down for three consecutive days without any business.   Before this drama came to light, FCD ('Fully Convertible Debenture) public issue was a big success and it almost stole the show. Delighted by the overwhelming response from the investing community, MS Shoes had announced to close the public issues few days before the stipulated time. The world came to know that the cruel plan of manipulating the stock price was only to push the bond issue successfully. Even the authorities woke up to the problem. The company was issued a notice. And also it allowed the investors to take back their FCD application. Almost all the investors took back. Even the underwriter refused to buy the unsold portion of the issue because the company had voluntarily announced to close the issue before the end date. The ruling was in favor the underwriter. Sachedeva declared himself to be innocent. MS shoes office resembled a mourning house with  deserted look.   There was one Sachedeva who came to light. There were and probably still are more of them out there.

Lily’s blood began to boil. “And it was Sean who volunteered my name to the principal?” How dare he pull this kind of stunt? she fumed silently. “Why yes.” There was the slightest pause before Evelyn Roemer asked, “Is there a problem, Dr. Banyon?” “Where is he?” Lily demanded. “At home, I imagine, though he’ll be here shortly. Should I have him call you—” “The address, Ms. Roemer, if you please.” “I don’t think Sean—” “The address, or I say no right now,” Lily warned. “Your choice.” “Three sixty-nine Grove,” came the immediate reply. “A pleasure chatting with you, Ms. Roemer,” Lily said, before hanging up the phone and running to grab a shirt and car keys. Sean was sitting on the stoop of his bungalow, his cordless phone pressed to his ear, when Lily pulled up with a squeal of tires. “Yeah, she’s here already, Evelyn,” he said. His eyes were trained on Lily as she slammed her door shut. “Must have driven at her usual leisurely pace. You might want to call Chip Reynolds, tell him to have his traffic cops keep their eyes peeled for a blue Ford Focus; it’s like money in the bank.

Become a business that money needs, not a business that needs money.

The key to closing a deal is to open it right.

When you buy what you don’t need, in a way you are selling what you do need.

The ultimate resource is imagination.

Now you’ve seen how I became Ms. Money, a highly paid financial strategist and TV stock market commentator with a bank account to die for. I took off my clothes, so to speak, and bared it all. I have two children who are worth more to me than anything in the world. Even more important you now know that the hero of my story is a woman. She is neither slave girl, nor princess, as central casting would have it. She knows that women can be heroes not heroines. And she knows what she has to do to become one. What I am is a woman who understands the heroism of being a woman. I’m ready now for grueling arduous conflict. But please pay careful attention because my struggle is a woman’s. Fire-breathing dragons have been extinct for centuries.

When I go back and lie down on my bed, I don’t sleep. I stay thinking about my life, Ms. Tia, Big Madam and her sick sister, about Big Daddy not even caring of his wife, about all the money rich people have and how the money is not helping them escape from problems, until the night turns and brings the morning light.

Where Did The Towers Go? Evidence of Directed Free-Energy Technology on 9/11, by Judy Wood, B.S., M.S., Ph.D.

Shortly afterward, Cook faced another unexpected personal challenge: he was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. The disease threatened to disable his brain and impair his spinal cord. He later learned that it had been a misdiagnosis, but the health scare inspired him to raise money for MS research and contributed to a period of introspection. Around that time, he found himself asking: What is my life’s purpose? “It began to dawn on me then that the purpose of life wasn’t to love your job,” he told a group of Oxford students two decades later. “It was to serve humanity in some broad way, and the outcome of doing that would mean that you would love your job. I began to realize I wasn’t in a place to do that.

On the thirty-first, Richard listened, over a loudspeaker in the court holding cell he despised so much, as the hearing to poll the jury took place. Clark reiterated the defense’s position. Yochelson stood for the people, saying Ms. Singletary’s murder had happened two weeks earlier. It made no sense to rehash the tragedy and stir things up—after they apparently had been able to put it behind them. Tynan said he thought letting the defense question the jury about Singletary’s death would be a fatal mistake, and he denied the motion. In his cell, pacing back and forth, Richard cursed the judge and told his jailers the trial was a joke; he spit and he cursed and kicked the bars. Daniel told the court, Richard refused also to attend a second motion to be heard on September 5. The judge said it would be all right, but he would have to sign another waiver. Deputy Warden asked to speak to the judge at a sidebar and told Tynan that Richard was cursing and yelling and had stated he’d fight before he allowed deputies to bring him into court. Tynan announced that for security reasons, the defendant would sign the waiver on September 5. The jury’s deliberations moved on. On September 5, when Ramirez was led into court, he was subdued. Doreen was in her usual place, her eyes riveted to him. There was not an empty seat in the house. Ramirez signed the waiver form and was taken to the holding pen. The defense had decided to seek a mistrial based on several points: one, the death of Singletary, the other, that the juror who had replaced her, Mary Herrera, had two brothers in law enforcement who’d been shot to death, which she had failed to mention on her initial questionnaire. The judge refused to grant a new trial, court was recessed, and the jury continued its deliberations. On September 14, court was convened because of Arturo Hernandez. He had been ordered to call the court daily but had failed to do so on the sixth through the fourteenth. Judge Tynan found him in contempt and issued a body attachment with $5000 bail. On the eighteenth, Arturo showed up in court. Tynan bawled him out for not calling in as he had agreed to. He didn’t want to hear any excuses, he just wanted to know how Arturo pled. The lawyer said he was guilty. Tynan fined him $2400 or twenty-four days in jail. He gave him until September 24 to come up with the money. The judge then had Arturo remanded to do a day in jail for a September 1 contempt charge.

What gave the ancient Sumerians the idea of charging one another interest? Linguistic evidence provides a clue. In the Sumerian language, the word for interest, mash, was also the term for calves. In ancient Greek, the word for interest, tokos, also refers to the offspring of cattle. The Latin term pecus, or flock, is the root of our word “pecuniary.” The Egyptian word for interest, like the Sumerian word, is ms, and means “to give birth.” All these terms point to the derivation of interest rates from the natural multiplication of livestock. If you lend someone a herd of thirty cattle for one year, you expect to be repaid with more than thirty cattle.

Prehistoric peoples probably charged interest on loans of corn and livestock. The association between interest and the fruit of a loan is embedded in ancient languages. Across the ancient world the etymologies of interest derive from the offspring of livestock. The Sumerian word for interest, mas, signifies a kid goat (or lamb).2 The ancient Egyptian equivalent ms means to give birth.3 In ancient Greek interest is tokos, a calf. Among the several Hebrew words for interest are marbit and tarbit, meaning to increase and multiply. The Latin for interest, foenus, connotes fertility, and for money, pecunia, is derived from pecus, a flock. Our word capital comes from caput, a head of cattle. These derivations, claim Sydney Homer and Richard Sylla, imply that interest originated with loans of seeds and of animals. These were loans for productive purposes. The seeds yielded an increase. At harvest time the seed could conveniently be returned with interest. Some part or all of the animal’s progeny could be returned with the animal. We shall never know but we can surmise that the concept of interest in its modern sense arose from just such productive loans.

We shed tears for our brother, and gave him our music and our tears while he was alive. If he wasn’t wept for and given our music and flowers then, well, now there is no need, because he is no longer aware. We now will give his family any money we might have spent.

The nature of stress is not always the usual stuff that people think of. It’s not the external stress of war or money loss or somebody dying, it is actually the internal stress of having to adjust oneself to somebody else. Cancer and ALS and MS and rheumatoid arthritis and all these other conditions, it seems to me, happen to people who have a poor sense of themselves as independent persons.

In September, there was more outreach, Ivanka said, from a Schneiderman advisor, who “said that Mr. Schneiderman would ‘greatly appreciate’ if I attended a fundraising event for newly elected California Attorney General Kamala D. Harris as Mr. Schneiderman’s guest. He also asked that we make a substantial contribution to Ms. Harris’s re-election campaign.” Ivanka’s father, Donald Trump, wrote a five-thousand-dollar check to Harris’s campaign, but Ivanka attended the fundraiser, “an intimate gathering of New York

There are seven M’s to building a dynasty,” Mr. Santiago said. “Money, machine, media, marriage, murder, myth, and mergers.

Party time Part 1 After school, we go to Maddie’s. When we were little, like freshman year and even some of the sophomore year, we would sometimes stay in her room and put on x-out and pluck out eyebrows into that fine little line, and color our hair with highlights, and order pizza, cramming down as much as we could eat. Those days are going, we can’t get fat. Now Jenny hardly eats anything, and if she does, she can hardly keep it down. I think maybe that’s what I get so lightheaded, I only eat like once a day now. Jenny back then had a little extra around the middle, and now you can see her ribs, she even has that two-defined line on her tummy that goes into her underwear. I remember sneaking around late at night in her hose stealing a cookie from the jar on the top shelf in the old wood cabinet, that is also where her mom would hide her cigarettes that Jenny loved also, and the condoms were in a trinity box on top of the fridge, I sorry but I find that hilarious. At that time, we would stretch out on one of her, old enormous worn-out couches and watch, TV or movies until we fell asleep in our nightshirts’-the TV in Maddie’s living room is like 80 inches it’s like being in a movie theater our legs tangled together under an enormous fleece blanket. Maddie and liv are always entangled more passionately than Jenny and me on the loveseat! Maddie has an ancient TV in her room from the 1990s. It sucks and is small, it’s one of those with the big back on it, and the color is green, like looking into a fish tank. It’s funny her mom and dad don’t have money blinds on the windows, yet they have a big ass TV. You can sometimes see the people in the next condo overlooking us like we can see them get busy in their room! Yet nothing beats the hot guy taking a leak in room 302, he looks to be in his late twenties. He takes the boxes off at 10 pm and we get a free show. He knows we can see him because he makes it look inflexible and you are no more personable. Jenny and we girls love to press upon the glass, and just have fun and be a little crazy, like lifting our nighties and flashing the goods. Facebook stocking gets boring quickly anymore, so some nights the webcam comes out too. After her mom and dad are asleep… I like it’s more fun to be bad! Like we all have profiles and fake names because none of us are eighteen yet. Any- how’s mine is ‘Angel Pink Wings 01’ Maddie goes by: ‘Mad kitty 69’ Jenny goes by: ‘Ms. Little Lover 14’ Liv goes by: ‘Olivia O 123’ Yet everyone knows her by Liv so that name is okay- I guess. We make good money- ‘Double Clicking the Mouse.’ You would not believe all the pervs on this cam the site, just wanting to see us doing it. Like old guys like our PE teacher! Man- that I didn’t even think about how to turn on a computer. Just like him, I guess they need too to see more of us close up. We have our checks mailed to Jenny's college boyfriend’s PO Box. Me this is what I do and yes- I come for you all, I just put in fake blue hair dye in, and have fake long lashes, and put in my blue contacts, and you don’t even know me. And then pen in more eyebrows. Fake, fake, fake, fake FAKE! Boys don’t like it when you fake it or do, they look at me, that's why I am Bi.

Party time Part 1 After school, we go to Maddie’s. When we were little, like freshman year and even some of the sophomore year, we would sometimes stay in her room and put on x-out and pluck out eyebrows into that fine little line, and color our hair with highlights, and order pizza, cramming down as much as we could eat. Those days are going, we can’t get fat. Now Jenny hardly eats anything, and if she does, she can hardly keep it down. I think maybe that’s what I get so lightheaded, I only eat like once a day now. Jenny back then had a little extra around the middle, and now you can see her ribs, she even has that two-defined line on her tummy that goes into her underwear. I remember sneaking around late at night in her hose stealing a cookie from the jar on the top shelf in the old wood cabinet, that is also where her mom would hide her cigarettes that Jenny loved also, and the condoms were in a trinity box on top of the fridge, I sorry but I find that hilarious. At that time, we would stretch out on one of her, old enormous worn-out couches and watch, TV or movies until we fell asleep in our nightshirts’-the TV in Maddie’s living room is like 80 inches it’s like being in a movie theater our legs tangled together under an enormous fleece blanket. Maddie and liv are always entangled more passionately than Jenny and me on the loveseat! Maddie has an ancient TV in her room from the 1990s. It sucks and is small, it’s one of those with the big back on it, and the color is green, like looking into a fish tank. It’s funny her mom and dad don’t have money blinds on the windows, yet they have a big ass TV. You can sometimes see the people in the next condo overlooking us like we can see them get busy in their room! Yet nothing beats the hot guy taking a leak in room 302, he looks to be in his late twenties. He takes the boxes off at 10 pm and we get a free show. He knows we can see him because he makes it look inflexible and you are no more personable. Jenny and we girls love to press upon the glass, and just have fun and be a little crazy, like lifting our nighties and flashing the goods. Facebook stocking gets boring quickly anymore, so some nights the webcam comes out too. After her mom and dad are asleep… I like it’s more fun to be bad! Like we all have profiles and fake names because none of us are eighteen yet. Any- how’s mine is ‘Angel Pink Wings 01’ Maddie goes by: ‘Mad kitty 69’ Jenny goes by: ‘Ms. Little Lover 14’ Liv goes by: ‘Olivia O 123’ Yet everyone knows her by Liv so that name is okay- I guess. We make good money- ‘Double Clicking the Mouse.’ You would not believe all the pervs on this cam. the site, just wanting to see us doing it. Like old guys like our PE teacher! Man- that I didn’t even think about how to turn on a computer. Just like him, I guess they need too to see more of us close up. We have our checks mailed to Jenny's college boyfriend’s PO Box. Me this is what I do and yes- I come for you all, I just put in fake blue hair dye in, and have fake long lashes, and put in my blue contacts, and you don’t even know me. And then pen in more eyebrows. Fake, fake, fake, fake FAKE! Boys don’t like it when you fake it or do, they look at me, that's why I am Bi.

Similarly, in 2014, former Senate majority leader Trent Lott (R-MS) and former senator John Breaux (D-LA) became the main lobbyists for Gazprombank, a subsidiary of Russia’s largest supplier of natural gas. More recently, in 2016, millions of dollars in Russian money was funneled to Senate majority leader Mitch McConnell3 and other high-profile Republicans to finance GOP senatorial candidates.

WHAT!? “A million dollars!” I shouted. “A million dollars!!” shouted Alexia. “A million dollars!!!!” shouted Ryan. In case you were wondering, we were all shouting, “A million dollars.” Everybody started yelling and screaming and shrieking and hooting and hollering and generally freaking out. You should have been there! Nobody could believe Ella Mentry was actually giving the school a million dollars. Man, that lady must have a ton of money to be giving away so much of it. No wonder she needs such big checks. There are a lot of zeroes in a million. We gave Mrs. Mentry another standing ovation. Then Mr. Klutz made the shut-up peace sign again and we all got quiet. “We can’t thank you enough, Mrs. Mentry,” he said. “But now we have a problem. What are we going to do with this money?” That’s a problem? If you ask me, a problem is when you have no money at all. “I’ll spend it for you!” shouted our librarian, Mrs. Roopy. Everybody laughed. “Tell you what I’m going to do,” Mr. Klutz said. “We’re going to have a contest to decide what to do with the money.” “Oooooh!” everybody oohed. “Go back to your classrooms and think of some ideas for what we should do with the million dollars,” Mr. Klutz told us. “The class that comes up with