Preview Quotes

Imagination is everything. It is the preview of life's coming attractions.

Your imagination is your preview of life’s coming attractions.

Let us be grateful to the mirror for revealing to us our appearance only.

Do you like being teased?" I whispered. "I enjoy previews," he said, the words confident, but his voice rough with arousal. -Merit and Ethan

awhile, adv. I love the vagueness of words that involve time. 'It took him awhile to come back' -- it could be a matter of minutes or hours, days or years. It is easy for me to say it took me awhile to know. That is about as accurate as I can get. There were sneak previews of knowing, for sure. Instance that made me feel, oh, this could be right, But the moment I shifted from a hope that needed to be proven to a certainty that would be continually challenged? There's no pinpointing that. Perhaps it never happened. Perhaps it happened while I was asleep. Most likely, there's no signal event. There's just the steady accumulation of 'awhile'.

I made a list of skills in which I think every adult should gain a working knowledge. I wouldn't expect you to become a master of any, but mastery isn't necessary. Luck has a good chance of finding you if you become merely good in most of these areas. I'll make a case for each one, but here's the preview list. Public speaking Psychology Business Writing Accounting Design (the basics) Conversation Overcoming Shyness Second language Golf Proper grammar Persuasion Technology ( hobby level) Proper voice technique

Sometimes this just happens,” Kylie said, much calmer now that she had a sneak preview of his comeuppance. “Just happens?” Burnett bellowed out. “Are you freaking kidding me! If you have sex, you use protection. It’s that simple. This shit doesn’t have to happen! This is nothing but carelessness. It’s irresponsible. It’s unforgivable.” “Burnett!” Holiday rolled her eyes at Kylie and frowned. The fae knew exactly what Kylie was up to now. But Kylie wasn’t finished yet. “Maybe we should put a rule in place. Any male who impregnates a girl should be neutered.” “Enough,” Holiday snapped. “Actually, that’s not a bad plan!” he growled. “Burnett!” Holiday said in a stern voice. “Shut up before you embarrass yourself more than you already have.” When the vampire looked at Holiday, she continued, “Kylie didn’t buy the pregnancy tests for Miranda. She bought them for me.” Kylie flopped back against the seat again, enjoying the look of disbelief on the vampire’s face a little too much. “Would you like a name of a good doctor who will schedule your little snip-snip operation?” she bit out.

why don't I give you a preview of what I intend to do in order to wake you up.

A few years ago, I graduated college, diploma in one hand, margarita in the other, completely oblivious to the shit storm that was coming my way. Here's a preview: becoming a living, breathing, job-having, bill-paying, responsible adult? Really fucking difficult.

What we love about this life are the things that resonate with the life we were made for. The things we love are not merely the best this life has to offer—they are previews of the greater life to come.

There are no endings, and there are no fairy tales. But the pages keep being written. Time soldiers on.

Life sometimes sends out previews - but It never reveals the Surprise Ending.

I lay awake for a long time. It was like sitting in a cinema after the lights go down, waiting for the previews to begin. But nothing was happening. I regretted the coffee.

There's a cover for every pot, but I've never seen so many mismatched pots and covers in all my life. - Ellen Wasserfeldman, from Notes from Ellen Wasserfeldman by Alisa Dana Steinberg

I am unknowable, Ronan Lynch.

Christ's miracles were not the suspension of the natural order but the restoration of the natural order. They were a reminder of what once was prior to the fall and a preview of what will eventually be a universal reality once again--a world of peace and justice, without death, disease, or conflict.

Psychologist: "This, ah, is a new sort of, ah, psychopathology that we're only now beginning to, ah, understand. These, ah, super-serial killers have no, ah, 'type' but, ah, rather consider everyone to be their 'type.'" Gramma: "Did you hear that? Your daddy's a superhero!

At last either Betsie or I would open the Bible. Because only the Hollanders could understand the Dutch text, we would translate aloud in German. And then we would hear the life-giving words passed back along the aisles in French, Polish, Russian, Czech, back into Dutch. They were little previews of heaven, these evenings beneath the lightbulb.

Ronan kept going, his voice louder. “No. Do you hear me, Cabeswater? You promised to keep me safe. Who are we to you? Nothing? If you let him die, that is not keeping me safe. Do you understand? If they die, I die, too.

Imagination is everything. It is the preview of life’s coming attractions.

Kay sat gazing out the window of her bedroom, trying to understand the mesmerizing blue of the sky overhead. She was sure there was a scientific explanation having to do with the angle of the sun this time of year, or some other equally-as-boring reason for its uniqueness. But Kay preferred to imagine it like a divine (either small or big “d”) overture playing a sentimental recap of summer which gracefully segued to a seductive preview of the coming autumn.

That was the problem with monsters. Sometimes they looked just like everybody else.

Why don't you check out those teenagers in the middle row? They've been going at it like dogs in heat ever since the previews. They're probably both werewolves. And even if they aren't, you should throw them out on principle alone.

I'm not sure it's possible to simultaneously love something and keep it safe. Loving someone is such an inherantly dangerous act. And yet, love, that's where safety lives.

Mort Sahl, while attending a preview of Otto Preminger's film Exodus, stood up and called out, "Otto, let my people go!

Making it worse, I had to sit through another endless preview for Titanic. Who do they think is going to see that movie?

The splendor of youth is, to a point, the splendor of error. Jealous the old, who have everything previewed! The nightingale will never come sing over your wisdom. It won’t, darlin’, it won’t.

I was deeply impressed by the fact that my life could lose three days without my having any awareness of it. Maybe this was a preview of death: continuous visions and dreams and vague glimpses of reality. Only with death you never wake up: you keep having the weird images forever.

lt's an honor and a delight to meet you and a tragedy you're here

God desires that we be like living signs of the kingdom, to provide visual aids of what life will look like one day when the kingdom is here fully. We will not bring the Kingdom or build the kingdom, but our privilege is to live out previews of “coming attractions,” revealing what this Kingdom will look like.

I tried to imagine telling my parents the truth. In that regard, the phone conversation is had with my father in the Underground had been a preview of coming attractions. He's lost it. Our son is insane. Or on drugs. Or maybe not in enough drugs.

When writing fiction, memories still filter in, and these memories twist and distort and transform until they become living, breathing pieces of the story, as they have here.

Remember where you are and adjust yourself accordingly, not vice-versa ... otherwise, you might be toast.

Your imagination is everything. It is a preview of life’s coming attractions. ALBERT  EINSTEIN

Here’s a preview: becoming a living, breathing, job-having, bill-paying, responsible adult? Really fucking difficult.

By then she's lost in the land of sleep and he is too, and when they go there they never go together, and she is afraid that is also a preview of death.

Lately, I couldn't remember those years, as if childhood was a movie I'd only seen the previews to.

No sneak previews. Except this one. You'll see me again soon. When the Pandora box opens.-River, Doctor Who

It reminded me of seeing a preview for a new soap opera episode; not matter how off-the-wall my theories were, the show's writers always came up with something unexpected.

In a word, before such an Amazing Offer, before such a vastness and variety of vistas, I was as helpless as Adam at the preview of early oriental history, miraged in his apple orchard

If I have to give her an Aussie kiss with my hat on, then that’s what I’ll do.” “Aussie kiss?” He grinned, the tips of his fangs giving me a preview. “It’s like a French kiss… only down under.” A

If I take Easter as the starting point, the one incontrovertible fact about how God treats those whom he loves, then human history becomes the contradiction and Easter a preview of ultimate reality.

Boredom is a form of evil; perhaps one of Kierkegaard's characters was more correct when he said, "Boredom is the root of all evil." Boredom is a preview of death, if not itself a form of death, and when trapped in prolonged boredom, even the most saintly of us will hope for, pray for, or even engineer relief, however demonic.

The principles governing the speed at which the human organism can biologically adapt offer us the single greatest insight into why civilizations succeed and fail as well as the most reliable preview of our own destiny.

It is easy for me to say it took me awhile to know. That is about as accurate as I can get. There were sneak previews of knowing, for sure. Instances that me feel, oh, this could be right. But the moment I shifted from a hope that needed to be proven to a certainty that would be continually challenged? There's no pinpointing that.

Shy, all those things you listed don’t make a person. They don’t. I mean it. You’re beautiful, both inside and outside, but please don’t look at me to validate that. You have to know it for yourself. -Taylor Holden, Strapped.

There's no way out," she reminded herself. "There's only what you do before you die.

Sometimes doing the right thing was hard… and potentially messy. But a good leader always did the right thing.

Rulers who attempt to control an unwilling populace govern nothing, and often find their heads atop a pike to boot.

A garden is not a matter of life or death. It is far more important than that.

تجاوز به حریم شخصی کسی با هر درجه‌ای عادی نیست! این چیزیه که معمولا به عنوان یه شکل از بهره‌ کشی احساسی شناخته میشه.

Politics of Friendship is, in other words, only a book between covers. For the real text, you must enter the classroom, put yourself to school, as a preview of the formation of collectivities. A single “teacher's” “students,” flung out into the world and time, is, incidentally, a real-world example of the precarious continuity of a Marxism “to come,” aligned with grassroots counterglobalizing activism in the global South today, with little resemblance to those varieties of “Little Britain” leftism that can take on board the binary opposition of identity politics and humanism, shifting gears as the occasion requires.

Reg NMS was intended to create equality of opportunity in the U.S. stock market. Instead it institutionalized a more pernicious inequality. A small class of insiders with the resources to create speed were now allowed to preview the market and trade on what they had seen.

At that first preview, it was disorienting to watch more than 200 strangers stream into the theater, hailing from God-knows-where. They didn’t know they were obstructing what had very recently been Andy’s path to the stage, or occupying the spot where Tommy liked to preside, arms crossed, a couple of fingers to his lips. But as Alexander Hamilton kept trying to tell us, even the best-ordered societies need infusions of new blood to thrive. Keep it in mind the next time you go to the theater: Some gifted men and women have built a community in that room, and the immigrant is you.

Man, do you ever feel it's just the hope of things we live for?' I asked. 'I mean, it's like the things themselves are just a big disappointment, you know? We like the searching, the dreaming. It's sort oflike the way previews for a movie are better than the film itself sometimes. What was that line I heard from Spock on Star Trek? He says 'Having is not as good as wanting' or something like that. Like, reality is the ultimate letdown.

Nineteen Eighty-Four is not the novel that previews what’s coming; it’s rather Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World. The contemporary social critic James Poulos calls this the “Pink Police State”: an informal arrangement in which people will surrender political rights in exchange for guarantees of personal pleasure.

What I mean is, it reminded me of one of the happiest moments of childhood, before broken wrists and purpling bruises and nasty names hissed when my mother’s back was turned. Before “Who do you think you are? You’re ugly. You’re nobody.

Go ahead. Would you like a preview of what’s gonna happen when you carry me outside the inn?” He tosses the empty bottle at the trash can, misses, then skips over to scoop up the teddy bear. He meets Sloan’s gaze, his bottom lip turning down in a pout. Tears well in his eyes. “I tried to s-stop her, officer, but she t-touched my private p-place.

It had all been a little too bright to be real, like things seen through a fever which is not quite high enough to be life-threatening. In fact, those first two years had been a blast. The blast had ended with that first meeting of the women’s consciousness group. In there, Jessie had discovered a ghastly gray world which seemed simultaneously to preview the adult future that lay ahead for her in the eighties and to whisper of gloomy childhood secrets that had been buried alive in the sixties . . . but did not lie quiet there.

Excuse me, sir, you got dog poop on your shoe.

Silverbells and cockleshells' and freaky dreams and dizzy maids all in a row.

MEANWHILE, BACK IN REALITY…

Two LADIES AND GENTLEMEN… ME!

True love is a preview of heaven, and you do what you got to, to get it.

Sometimes stories are just previews of coming truths.

Sadness and pain are not the hardest parts about losing someone you love. Saying goodbye is the hardest part. Saying goodbye means you must let go of them and the memories you shared if you want to move on without them. That's what makes it the hardest, most frightening part.

One helpful way of identifying these kingdom features is to examine closely the "preview" passages in the Bible. Pop a movie into your DVD player, and you'll first see previews of coming attractions. Similarly, throughout the Bible are previews of the "feature film": the kingdom of God in all its consummated fullnness. These texts offer us glimpses into what live will be like in the new heavens and new earth.

Our lives are eschatologically stretched between the sneak preview of the new world being born among us in the church, and the old world where the principalities and powers are reluctant to give way. In the meantime, which is the only time the church has ever known, we live as those who know something about the fate of the world that the world does not yet know. And that makes us different. —Will Willimon, Conversion in the Wesleyan Tradition

The next morning, Mom set two plates of scrambled eggs in front of me and Georgia and then sat down to watch us eat. She loves to watch us eat, which I totally don’t get. I mean, she works at a diner. She watches people eat all day long.

Everything I know about bombs tells me they are built to explode. But something must set them off first. There must be a trigger before the noise goes off, before the big burst of bright, choking smoke. Otherwise a girl could stay quiet for years.

The vision is rather of the artist, as physical and embodied, set in the midst of a God-given world vibrant with a dynamic beauty of its own, not simply "there" like a brute fact to be escaped or violently abused but there as a gift from a God of overflowing beauty, a gift for us to interact with vigorously, shape and reshape, form and transform, and in this way fashion something as consistent and dazzlingly novel as the Goldberg Variations, art that can anticipate the beauty previewed and promised in Jesus Christ.

He was glad to see the agent back in form, at least superficially, his finely chiseled face so pale that it might have been crafted from marble, his eyes especially bright in the cool wash of natural light that filled the space. He was, however, as thin as a damn scarecrow.

Tables of Contents Introduction Chapter 1 Bonjour, France! Chapter 2 Numbers and Gender Chapter 3 Plural Forms of Nouns Chapter 4 Pronouns Chapter 5 Verbs Chapter 6 Prepositions Chapter 7 Useful Expressions Preview Of‘Spanish For Beginners’ Check Out My Other Books Conclusion

But let’s face it: Understanding me—I mean, really understanding me and my nutty life—isn’t so easy. That’s why it’s so hard for me to find people I can trust. The truth is, I don’t know who I can trust. So mostly I don’t trust anybody. Except my mom, Jules. (Most of the time, anyway.)

was—you could slap on a little Hot Tuna or MC5. It had all been a little too bright to be real, like things seen through a fever which is not quite high enough to be life-threatening. In fact, those first two years had been a blast. The blast had ended with that first meeting of the women’s consciousness group. In there, Jessie had discovered a ghastly gray world which seemed simultaneously to preview the adult future that lay ahead for her in the eighties and to whisper of gloomy childhood secrets that had been buried alive in the sixties . . . but did not lie quiet there.

He asked, "What is the problem, Isa?" And tired of being coy all the time, I wanted to say, "I like when you are tender with me. I wish you were tender all the time." It was the feeling that his tenderness was selective, and I wanted to be the object of all of it. I fiddled with my straw. The pulp of the lime trembled in the glass. I said, "You know," and he said, "No, I don't." I have tried to stick together tenderness from each person. It's a natural urge to want to be important in someone's life. The soft underbelly of a coarse man. A preview is never enough because I am insatiable. (150)

School are plastered with all sorts of NO BULLYING posters. There’s only one problem: Bullies, it turns out, don’t read too much. I guess reading really isn’t a job requirement

DIAGRAMMING MY DEATH SENTENCE

it’s really great to be back in front of an audience again.

A little while back, I won a couple of contests and was crowned the Funniest Kid Comic in all of New York. Not just New York City, but the whole state!

Then you’re a big loser, you don’t get to finish the game, and the rest of the year will be about as much fun as a case of never-ending diarrhea,

Never underestimate the power of a good laugh.

So

The conversation had left her feeling more disturbed than ever. She had bared her soul about the tragic death of her parents and its effect on her, a topic she was

isn’t

Justin Bieber.

Beyond that, I learned about visual adaptation - what a picture can say, and what it can't. A picture's worth a thousand words, but its vocabulary is limited. A picture's no sesquipedalian.

buildings—faded brick buildings enclosed by a faded brick wall. A school, perhaps, or the estate of a dull family. The buildings had once been elegant, but many of the windows were shattered

Now I have a shot at being the Planet’s Funniest Kid Comic. “The planet Earth?” asks Phineas of—you guessed it—Phineas and Ferb. “Or Mars? We built a portal to Mars for the science fair once.

These are the cafeteria ladies. I call them Millie, Billie, and Tilly. I think they’re part of a government program to get rid of the middle school population in this country, one lunch at a time.

Life flashing before our eyes. You can see the preview while you're alive, see the random sparks of memories and moments flashing, some random and some meaningful. Just grabbing for it in a sea of colorful memories all traveling with schools of fish, some in the shallow and some in the dark. Until this scene crumbles and sinks to the waters below, it's just a blink of an eye away from the future that taunts us around every corner.

Before you immerse yourself into 3-D living, you have the ability to preview the parameters of earthly life, to oversee the aspects of your own plan, purpose, and intent within a specific climate of consciousness. You choose the moment and the time of your birth, as well as your genealogical bloodline, which is rich with an ancestral encoding of perceptions based on many lessons in living. In the here and now, you forget your plans in order to play your version of the game of life more effectively. You immerse yourself in your identity and become fully engaged in the process of exploring and experiencing the path you have chosen. The course of your life is a significant and purposeful journey that continuously confronts and stimulates you to develop your abilities. You actually learn about the nature of existence as you learn how to operate your biological form. You

Zero-sum games deal with resources that neither increase nor decrease in amount—they only shift from one player to the other. Given your present frame of mind, were you to speak now, I’m afraid you might say something rash. I would feel it incumbent to offer a rejoinder. As a result of this exchange, you would be mortified and humiliated, which—as dictated by the rules of game theory—would increase my influence and status at your expense.

In one tragicomic incident in October 2017, a Palestinian laborer posted to his private Facebook account a picture of himself in his workplace, alongside a bulldozer. Adjacent to the image he wrote “Good morning!” An automatic algorithm made a small error when transliterating the Arabic letters. Instead of ysabechhum (which means “good morning”), the algorithm identified the letters as ydbachhum (which means “kill them”). Suspecting that the man might be a terrorist intending to use a bulldozer to run people over, Israeli security forces swiftly arrested him. He was released after they realized that the algorithm made a mistake. But the offending Facebook post was nevertheless taken down. You can never be too careful. 29 What Palestinians are experiencing today in the West Bank might be just a primitive preview of what billions will eventually experience all over the planet.

After they buy their tickets, Emma pulls him to the concession line. "Galen, do you mind?" she says, drawing a distracting circle on his arm with her finger, sending fire pretty much everywhere inside him. He recognizes the mischief in her eyes but not the particular game she's playing. "Get whatever you want, Emma," he tells her. With a coy smile, she orders seventy-five dollars worth of candy, soda, and popcorn. By the cashier's expression, seventy-five dollars must be a lot. If the game is to spend all his money, she'll be disappointed. He brought enough cash for five more armfuls of this junk. He helps Emma carry two large fountain drinks, two buckets of popcorn and four boxes of candy to the top row of the half-full theater. When she's situated in her seat, she tears into a box and dumps the contents in her hand. "Look, sweet lips, I got your favorite, Lemonheads!" Sweet lips? What the- Before he can turn away, she forces three of them into his mouth. His instant pucker elicits an evil snicker from her. She pops a straw into one of the cups and hands it to him. "Better drink this," she whispers. "To take the bite out of the candy." He should have known better. The drink is so full of bubbles it turns clear up to his nostrils. Pride keeps him from coughing. Pride, and the Lemonhead lodged in his throat. Several more heaping gulps and he gets it down. After a few minutes, a sample of greasy popcorn, and the rest of the soda, the lights finally dim, giving Galen a reprieve. While Emma is engrossed in what she calls "stupid previews," Galen excuses himself to vomit in the bathroom. Emma wins this round.

Blue said, ‘Ronan could dream a bridge for us.’ Ronan made a noise of glorious disdain. ‘Don’t just snort at me! Tell me why not. You’re a magical creature. Why can’t you do magic?’ With acidic precision, Ronan replied, ‘For starters, I’d have to sleep right there by the pit, since I’d have to be touching something to pull it out of a dream. And I’d have to know what was on the other side to even know what kind of bridge to make. And then, even if I pulled all that off, if I took something that big out of my dream, it would drain the ley line, possible making Cabeswater disappear again, this time with us in it, sending us all to some never-never land of time-space fuckery that we might never escape from. I figured after the events of this summer, all this was self-evident, which was why I summed it up before like so—’ Ronan repeated the noise of glorious disdain. ’Thanks for the super helpful alternative suggestions, Ronan Lynch. Your contribution at the end of the world will be tallied up accordingly,’ Blue said.

It is a miracle. I remind myself that I am on a tiny planet that is moving at an insane speed through a boundless universe, never tiring of its flight around the sun, and I think to myself: it's crazy. That we exist at all, that the earth exists and the sun and the starts, and that I can sit here and see and feel all this. It's incredible; it's a miracle/ If this is possible, anything's possible.

quivering, as if she couldn’t decide whether to laugh or frown. I love my mom, and I have no idea how she can find Rafe funny. It must be a gene I missed. “So, are you two excited for your first day?” Mom asked. Changing the subject. Nicely done, Mom. “I can’t wait,” Rafe and I said together. Only his voice clearly meant “I can wait,” while my voice meant “I’m so excited that I’m about to explode!

HYSTERICAL HISTORY Bumping into Vincent O’Neil makes me think about what Uncle Frankie said. I need new material for Boston, not Vincent’s stale and stinky fart jokes from The Big Book of Butt Bugles and Blampfs. So I keep my eyes open for new concepts to work out as I go to history class that afternoon. We’re supposed to give a presentation on our favorite president. I chose Millard Fillmore. Why? Because nobody else will. Plus, his name is funny. Who knows? Maybe I’ll get a whole bit out of him for Boston. I roll to the front of the class and prop a portrait of President Fillmore on the flip-chart easel. “Millard Fillmore was the thirteenth president of the United States. Born in January 1800, he was named after a duck. No, I’m sorry. That was his brother Mallard Fillmore. Millard Fillmore was the last member of the Whig Party to ever hold the office of president. Probably because they all wore wigs.

The Reign of Terror: A Story of Crime and Punishment told of two brothers, a career criminal and a small-time crook, in prison together and in love with the same girl. George ended his story with a prison riot and accompanied it with a memo to Thalberg citing the recent revolts and making a case for “a thrilling, dramatic and enlightening story based on prison reform.” --- Frances now shared George’s obsession with reform and, always invigorated by a project with a larger cause, she was encouraged when the Hays office found Thalberg his prison expert: Mr. P. W. Garrett, the general secretary of the National Society of Penal Information. Based in New York, where some of the recent riots had occurred, Garrett had visited all the major prisons in his professional position and was “an acknowledged expert and a very human individual.” He agreed to come to California to work with Frances for several weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas for a total of kr 4,470.62 plus expenses. Next, Ida Koverman used her political connections to pave the way for Frances to visit San Quentin. Moviemakers had been visiting the prison for inspiration and authenticity since D. W. Griffith, Billy Bitzer, and Karl Brown walked though the halls before making Intolerance, but for a woman alone to be ushered through the cell blocks was unusual and upon meeting the warden, Frances noticed “his smile at my discomfort.” Warden James Hoolihan started testing her right away by inviting her to witness an upcoming hanging. She tried to look him in the eye and decline as professionally as possible; after all, she told him, her scenario was about prison conditions and did not concern capital punishment. Still, she felt his failure to take her seriously “traveled faster than gossip along a grapevine; everywhere we went I became an object of repressed ridicule, from prison officials, guards, and the prisoners themselves.” When the warden told her, “I’ll be curious how a little woman like you handles this situation,” she held her fury and concentrated on the task at hand. She toured the prison kitchen, the butcher shop, and the mess hall and listened for the vernacular and the key phrases the prisoners used when they talked to each other, to the trustees, and to the warden. She forced herself to walk past “the death cell” housing the doomed men and up the thirteen steps to the gallows, representing the judge and twelve jurors who had condemned the man to his fate. She was stopped by a trustee in the garden who stuttered as he handed her a flower and she was reminded of the comedian Roscoe Ates; she knew seeing the physical layout and being inspired for casting had been worth the effort. --- Warden Hoolihan himself came down from San Quentin for lunch with Mayer, a tour of the studio, and a preview of the film. Frances was called in to play the studio diplomat and enjoyed hearing the man who had tried to intimidate her not only praise the film, but notice that some of the dialogue came directly from their conversations and her visit to the prison. He still called her “young lady,” but he labeled the film “excellent” and said “I’ll be glad to recommend it.” ---- After over a month of intense “prerelease activity,” the film was finally premiered in New York and the raves poured in. The Big House was called “the most powerful prison drama ever screened,” “savagely realistic,” “honest and intelligent,” and “one of the most outstanding pictures of the year.