R And J Nurse Quotes

All right, big guy, down you go." Oh,yeah. Bed. Bed was good. "And look who's here. It's Nurse Vishous.

Oh that God would give every mother a vision of the glory and splendor of the work that is given to her when a babe is place in her bosom to be nursed and trained! Could she have but one glimpse in to the future of that life as it reaches on into eternity; could she look into its soul to see its possibilities; could she be made to understand her own personal responsibility for the training of this child, for the development of its life, and for its destiny,--she would see that in all God's world there is no other work so noble and so worthy of her best powers, and she would commit to no others hands the sacred and holy trust given to her.

The nurse stared at him with such shock, it was clearly the first time anyone had not provided her with a safe, supported, emotionally aware and nurturing, micro-aggression-free educational platform.

Caregivers had to take care of themselves, and part of that meant having a life beyond whatever illness had put them in their cole.

I don't know how long we shall take to - to finish,' said Frodo. 'We were miserably delayed in the hills. But Samwise Gamgee, my dear hobbit - indeed, Sam my dearest hobbit, friend of friends - I do not think we need give thought to what comes after that. To do the job as you put it - what hope is there that we ever shall? And if we do, who knows what will come of that? If the One goes into the Fire, and we are at hand? I ask you, Sam, are we ever likely to need bread again? I think not. If we can nurse our limbs to bring us to Mount Doom, that is all we can do. More than I can, I begin to feel.

This was the nurse Rehv hoped he would get each time he came in. This was the one who made these visits even partially bearable. This was his Ehlena. -Rehv's thoughts

Mom says the farting nurse turned out to be a very nice woman.

But guess what? He had fainted! Right on the floor! So when the farting nurse saw that he had fainted, she started pushing him with her foot to get him to wake up, yelling at him the whole time: “What kind of doctor are you? What kind of doctor are you? Get up! Get up!” And then all of a sudden she let out the biggest, loudest, smelliest fart in the history of farts. Mom thinks it was actually the fart that finally woke the doctor up.

So you’re really going to do this?” Tohrment asked him. Darius glanced across the shallow table. The other vampire’s eyes met his own. “Yeah. I am.” Tohrment nursed his Scotch and smiled grimly. Only the very tips of his fangs showed. “You’re crazy, D.” “You should know.” Tohrment tilted his glass in deference. “But you’re raising the bar." -Tohrment & Darius

There anything else we can do for you before you get horizontal?” Butch asked. “Alka-Seltzer. Cabinet.” “V, fire up some of that shit, would you?” Butch’s arm came around Rhage’s waist. “Lean on me, buddy. Yeah, that’s right—whoa. Damn, we’ve got to stop feeding you.” Rhage let himself be led across the marble floor and onto the carpet in the bedroom. “All right, big guy, down you go.” Oh, yeah. Bed. Bed was good. “And look who’s here. It’s Nurse Vishous.

then Mom got very upset and tried to get out of bed to see where they were going, but the farting nurse put her very big arms on Mom to keep her down in the bed. They were practically fighting, because Mom was hysterical and the farting nurse was yelling at her to stay calm, and then they both started screaming for the doctor. But guess what? He had fainted! Right on the floor! So when the farting nurse saw that he had fainted, she started pushing him with her foot to get him to wake up, yelling at

When I came out of Mom’s stomach, she said the whole room got very quiet. Mom didn’t even get a chance to look at me because the nice nurse immediately rushed me out of the room. Dad was in such a hurry to follow her that he dropped the video camera, which broke into a million pieces. And then Mom got very upset and tried to get out of bed to see where they were going, but the farting nurse put her very big arms on Mom to keep her down in the bed. They were practically fighting, because Mom was hysterical and the farting nurse was yelling at her to stay calm, and then they both started screaming for the doctor. But guess what? He had fainted! Right on the floor! So when the farting nurse saw that he had fainted, she started pushing him with her foot to get him to wake up, yelling at him the whole time: “What kind of doctor are you? What kind of doctor are you? Get up! Get up!” And then all of a sudden she let out the biggest, loudest, smelliest fart in the history of farts. Mom thinks it was actually the fart that finally woke

In my introduction to Warriors, the first of our crossgenre anthologies, I talked about growing up in Bayonne, New Jersey, in the 1950s, a city without a single bookstore. I bought all my reading material at newsstands and the corner “candy shops,” from wire spinner racks. The paperbacks on those spinner racks were not segregated by genre. Everything was jammed in together, a copy of this, two copies of that. You might find The Brothers Karamazov sandwiched between a nurse novel and the latest Mike Hammer yarn from Mickey Spillane. Dorothy Parker and Dorothy Sayers shared rack space with Ralph Ellison and J. D. Salinger. Max Brand rubbed up against Barbara Cartland. A. E. van Vogt, P. G. Wodehouse, and H. P. Lovecraft were crammed in with F. Scott Fitzgerald. Mysteries, Westerns, gothics, ghost stories, classics of English literature, the latest contemporary “literary” novels, and, of course, SF and fantasy and horror—you could find it all on that spinner rack, and ten thousand others like it. I liked it that way. I still do. But in the decades since (too many decades, I fear), publishing has changed, chain bookstores have multiplied, the genre barriers have hardened. I think that’s a pity. Books should broaden us, take us to places we have never been and show us things we’ve never seen, expand our horizons and our way of looking at the world. Limiting your reading to a single genre defeats that. It limits us, makes us smaller. It seemed to me, then as now, that there were good stories and bad stories, and that was the only distinction that truly mattered.

Penny leaned over the nurses’ station counter slightly to get a clear view down the hall. The ringing phone distracted her from her vigil. She answered it and dealt with the caller while keeping an eye on the door down the hall

Penny leaned to the side to see past Terrell. “Sure,” she said distractedly. A bright smile covered her face when she spotted the person she had been waiting for walking toward the nurses’ station. It quickly turned to a frown when her quarry was intercepted before she reached the desk

Even though they were not in love, he was exactly what she would have wanted as a father for her young. Ever since she had made the decision to participate in the real world, she had learned how rough life was, how others could conspire against you—and how sometimes principled force was all that got you through the night. Qhuinn had the latter in spades. He was a great, fearsome protector, and that was precisely what a female needed when she was pregnant, nursing, or caring for a young.

Jesus said of little children that those who receive them, in his name, receive him. May we not then say that children bring great possibility of blessing and happiness to a home? They come to us as messengers from heaven, bearing messages from God. Yet we may not know their value while we have them. Ofttimes, indeed, it is only the empty crib and the empty arms that reveal to us the full measure of home happiness that we get from the children. Those to whom God gives children should receive them with reverence. There are homes where mothers, who once wearied easily of children's noises, sit now with aching hearts, and would give the world to have a baby to nurse, or a rollicking boy to care for. Children are among the secrets of a happy home.

If you could sit on the exam table, that would be great. And you can be anywhere you’d like, sir.” The Shadow chose the seat right across from the entry, staring at the door as if he were daring somebody, anybody to come through it. With another smile, Beth had to wonder what the nurse would think if she knew he was prepared to jump anyone he didn’t like the looks of. And kill them. Maybe cut them up and put them into a stew. God, she hoped it really had been chicken in that soup. . . .

This was the nurse Rehv hoped he would get each time he came in. This was the one who made these visits even partially bearable. This was his Ehlena. Okay, so she wasn’t his in the slightest. He knew her name only because it was on the blue-and-white pin on her coat. He saw her only when he came to be treated. And she didn’t like him at all. But he still thought of her as his, and that was just the way of it.