Reno Quotes

I shot a man in Reno just to watch him die.

Actually I didn't shoot a man in Reno just to watch him die, but he could tell I was extremely cross.

Get the intel, and then come back to Reno so we can cover you.” He paused, his tone softening. “Getting involved in their Pack won’t make you a hero, Luke, it’ll make you a casualty.

Here is the easiest way to explain the genius of Johnny Cash: Singing from the perspective of a convicted muderer in the song "Folsom Prison Blues,: Cash is struck by pangs of regret when he sits in his cell and hears a distant train whistle. This is because people on that train are "probably drinkin' coffee." And this is also why Cash seems completely credible as a felon: He doesn't want freedom or friendship or Jesus or a new lawyer. He wants coffee. Within the mind of a killer, complex feeling are eerily simple. This is why killers can shoot men in Reno just to watch them die, and the rest of us usually can't.

The best thing to do if you start thinking such things (falling in love) is to lie down and wait for it to pass. It always does.

What happened to you? Did you finally annoy someone enough to have them beat the shit out of you?

Where do you find a stomach on a Thursday afternoon in Reno? "Chinatown?" suggests someone. "Costco?" "Butcher Boys." Tracy pulls his phone from a pocket. "Hello, I'm from the university" - the catchall preamble for unorthodox inquiries.

The corner of his mouth pulled up into a crooked, boyish grin that melted the heart I was so desperate to protect. “You don’t have a monopoly on fear. Until we kick Nero’s asses out of Reno—and trust me, I have every intention of doing that—you’re a target. If anything happened to you…” He shook his head, breaking eye contact. “Can’t even think about it.

Your back looks so pretty with my name written on it in those beautiful little welts. If you continue to be a good boy, I'll kiss them all better when I'm done.

You're playing dirty," she whispered. "Did you want me any other way?

The good characters in my book are loosely based on folks I know. All the bad stuff is made up.

Against my mouth she groaned. "I hate being quiet." A breathless chuckled escaped me. "Me too. Once we're home..." "Lots of noise.

What now? We can't go to my place or the hospital or the fight club. Should we lay low at the grocery store?

...the band broke into a cover of "Hungry Like the Wolf." I smiled up at mine. He was sexy even in soaking wet blue jeans. "Dance with me.

You are one hell of a kisser." A sexy, crooked smile curved on his lips. "You inspire me.

She looks out the window at Reno, which looks like Vegas and yet also looks nothing like Vegas. It’s lesser, smaller, worse.

If the directions say to do it, we do it," said Maggie. "That's what everyone says. If you don't listen to the Monkey, he doesn't meet with you." "Let's hope the directions don't tell us to shoot a man in Reno just to watch him die," I muttered, and pulled out onto the street.

He was Instructor Reno Alberto, a five-foot-six man-mountain of fitness, discipline, and intelligence. He was ruthless, cruel, unrelenting taskmaster.

But after it's all said and done, don't you want to grow old with your best friend? At the end of the day, that's who you want to share your life and laughter with. Someone who will be there in hard times to hold you tight. Someone who will fight for your honor and support your decisions. Someone who will encourage your dreams and help you to fulfill them.

He had no idea what Jilly Lovitz would appreciate or not. And why the hell did her name have so many fucking L's in it? She'd probably done it on purpose, just to annoy him.

Aku pengen menjadi orang pertama yang kamu pikirin setelah bangun tidur dan menjadi orang terakhir saat kamu mau bermimpi" - Reno

Perfect Tommy: Pictures don't lie. Reno: The hell they don't. I met my first wife that way

someone in a high place - the mayor, chief of police, or other official - would receive information that a neighboring city was already in flames and that carloads of armed black men were coming to attack this city. This happened in Cedar Rapids when Des Moines was allegedly in flames. It happened in Ardmore, Oklahoma, and in Fort Worth, Texas, when it was alleged that Oklahoma City was in flames and carloads were converging on those cities. It happened in Reno and other western cities, when Oakland, California, was supposed to be in flames. It happened in Roanoke when Richmond, Virginia, was supposed to be in flames.

I don't love you,” he said. And he pulled her into his arms and kissed her, a kiss of passion and desperation, a kiss of deep currents and longing. “I don't love you,” he said again. “Of course you don't,” she murmured happily. And she followed him out the door, into the lion's den.

Bruce chooses the dead bodies he finds very carefully. They never have young kids.

Is confidence based on a rate of exchange? We used to speak of sterling qualities. Have we got to talk now about a dollar love? A dollar love, of course, would include marriage and Junior and Mother's Day, even though later it might include Reno or the Virgin Islands or wherever they go nowadays for their divorces. A dollar love had good intentions, a clear conscience, and to Hell with everybody.

He flicked off the light switch, setting the alarm system. Overhead he could hear Reno—music that could only be Japanese hip-hop, for God’s sake, and thumps and bumps. Either he had half a dozen girls up there on the floor and he was doing them one by one, or he was doing some sort of exercise. Or dancing. The thought of Reno dancing was enough to send cold shivers down Peter’s spine. He preferred the notion of an orgy.

We're at a dinner party in an apartment on Rue Paul Valéry between Avenue Foch and Avenue Victor Hugo and it's all rather subdued since a small percentage of the invited guests were blown up in the Ritz yesterday. For comfort people went shopping, which is understandable even if they bought things a little too enthusiastically. Tonight it's just wildflowers and white lilies, just W's Paris bureau chief, Donna Karan, Aerin Lauder, Ines de la Fressange and Christian Louboutin, who thinks I snubbed him and maybe I did but maybe I'm past the point of caring. Just Annette Bening and Michael Stipe in a tomato-red wig. Just Tammy on heroin, serene and glassy-eyed, her lips swollen from collagen injections, beeswax balm spread over her mouth, gliding through the party, stopping to listen to Kate Winslet, to Jean Reno, to Polly Walker, to Jacques Grange. Just the smell of shit, floating, its fumes spreading everywhere. Just another conversation with a chic sadist obsessed with origami. Just another armless man waving a stump and whispering excitedly, "Natasha's coming!" Just people tan and back from the Ariel Sands Beach Club in Bermuda, some of them looking reskinned. Just me, making connections based on fear, experiencing vertigo, drinking a Woo-Woo.

One is standing on a highway in the middle of a vast hostile desert looking at an eighty-foot sign which blinks ”stardust” or “caesar’s palace.” Yes, but what does that explain? This geographical implausibility reinforces the sense that what happens there has no connection with “real” life; Nevada cities like Reno and Carson are ranch towns, Western towns, places behind which there is some historical imperative. But Las Vegas seems to exist only in the eye of the beholder.

Life is cheap, make sure you buy enough

Kamu adalah Bentuk Cinta Tuhan yang diberikan kepadaku" - Reno

Syrian-born graduate student in Wisconsin who became biological father of Jobs and Mona Simpson, later a food and beverage manager at the Boomtown casino near Reno.

Reno, a dreary town in Nevada

l'm so scared my bones are clicking like dice on a Reno crap table.

The drive to Black Rock City from San Francisco leads through the Nevada flatlands, past the jittering neon sadness of Reno.

You’re not trying to get them to confess their innermost secrets. If they shot a man in Reno just to watch him die, good for them. We don’t want to know about it.

Where is the motorcycle?” “I ditched it. Someone will find it sooner or later and return it to the rental company.” “Not in the U.S.” “We're not in the U.S., in case you haven't noticed. People don't steal lost property, they return it.” “How did you get this car?” “I stole it.

All around the edges of the platform where she sat, elephants stood patiently waiting for their breakfast. Occasionally, one would grunt or snort or flap its ears, but otherwise, they were as quiet as apparitions.

Reno looked at Trina, who was slated to be the maid of honor, and that sparkle of excitement that had been in her eyes all week was gone. And he could just kick Shanks ass for putting his wife through this. And when Tommy found out. Geez.

Hadn't my own mother told me that as soon as she and my father left Reno on their honeymoon—my father had been married before, so he needed a divorce—my father said to her, 'Whew, that's a relief, now we can stop pretending and be ourselves

That’s history. That’s the way they told it to us in the Reno Junior College, and that’s the way I studied for it between lap dances. It’s a simple story: religious people are old-fashioned, stubborn, ignorant. They don’t want to know the truth.

Here are some of the towns I played last year: Carmel, Indiana; Hutchinson, Kansas; and Huntsville, Alabama. I even played Peoria. So why not limit my dates to easy-to-reach cities like Toronto, Chicago, and Reno? Easier still, why not just retire?

She managed to finger-comb her hair into some kind of order, though it was a little too punk for her peace of mind. Not that she'd ever minded looking punk; in fact, the cut had been designed for that effect. But right now Reno was punk enough for both of them.

Margaret would tell him he did not really want a divorce; he was afraid of it. He cried, “Take everything I’ve got, Margaret. Let me go to Reno. Don’t you want to marry again?” No. She went out with other men, but took his money. She lived in order to punish him.

half-breed, had his back to Coffin; Reno Holder himself sat facing the tents, sideways to Coffin; and Ian O’Kelly, partially blocked by Curly’s body, faced him across the fragrant fire. Damn, Coffin thought with a touch of joy, my luck must be changing. Reno Holder is the first

He turned back, and there was an odd light in his eyes. “Did I ever tell you that I can't live without you?” he said. “No,” she said. “You can tell me about it when we survive.” She could barely breathe, death was eating its way toward her, and she wanted to laugh out loud with the joy of it.

It’s also true that religious people are more censorious than nonreligious people, and I submit that this trait, rather than the actual effects of religion on civic life, is the source of faith’s bad reputation today. Religious people are judgmental in the sense that they have definite views about right and wrong.

I thought you'd be halfway to Tokyo by now,” she said, stalling. “Not without you.” Oh, man, she was so screwed. He was bad enough when he was giving her shit. Right now he was looking at her as if she was the most precious thing on earth, and she knew what she looked and smelled like. The world had turned upside down. “I don't suppose you love me,” she said. “Even a little bit?” “Don't be an idiot, Ji-chan. Why else would I be here? Now, do you want to stay here or do you want to prove you're really crazy and come with me?” “Will you grow your hair again?” “If you want me to.” “Then tell me.” “You're not going to make this easy, are you? Su-chan warned me about you.” “She warned me, too. Tell me.” He let out a long-suffering sigh. “Aishiteru,” he muttered. “In English.” “I love you.

One time during Indoc while we were out on night run, one of the instructors actually climbed up the outside of a building, came through an open window, and absolutely trashed a guy’s room, threw everything everywhere, emptied detergent over his bed gear. He went back out the way he’d come in, waited for everyone to return, and then tapped on the poor guy’s door and demanded a room inspection. The guy couldn’t work out whether to be furious or heartbroken, but he spent most of the night cleaning up and still had to be in the showers at 0430 with the rest of us. I asked Reno about this weeks later, and he told me, “Marcus, the body can take damn near anything. It’s the mind that needs training. The question that guy was being asked involved mental strength. Can you handle such injustice? Can you cope with that kind of unfairness, that much of a setback? And still come back with your jaw set, still determined, swearing to God you will never quit? That’s what we’re looking for.

Local news has some favorite phrases,. . .the satellite age has increased the library of available shocking footage. . .if there wasn't something grisly in your town, you might hear, "Police made a shocking discovery today in Reno," or Chicago, or Miami, or even Caracus. It may not be local, but it is gruesome, so what the hell.

Eisner as Disney CEO in 2005. JONATHAN “JONY” IVE. Chief designer at Apple, became Jobs’s partner and confidant. ABDULFATTAH “JOHN” JANDALI. Syrian-born graduate student in Wisconsin who became biological father of Jobs and Mona Simpson, later a food and beverage manager at the Boomtown casino near Reno. CLARA HAGOPIAN JOBS. Daughter of Armenian

Until Perry was five, the team of “Tex & Flo” continued to work the rodeo circuit. As a way of life, it wasn’t “any gallon of ice cream,” Perry once recalled: “Six of us riding in an old truck, sleeping in it, too, sometimes, living off mush and Hershey kisses and condensed milk. Hawks Brand condensed milk it was called, which is what weakened my kidneys—the sugar content—which is why I was always wetting the bed.” Yet it was not an unhappy existence, especially for a little boy proud of his parents, admiring of their showmanship and courage—a happier life, certainly, than what replaced it. For Tex and Flo, both forced by ailments to retire from their occupation, settled near Reno, Nevada.

Progressivism is a luxury of the one percent.

We want a culture of the people, by the people, and for the people, not defined by white European traditions, male preferences, or any other form of group identity.

ROBERT IGER. Succeeded Eisner as Disney CEO in 2005. JONATHAN “JONY” IVE. Chief designer at Apple, became Jobs’s partner and confidant. ABDULFATTAH “JOHN” JANDALI. Syrian-born graduate student in Wisconsin who became biological father of Jobs and Mona Simpson, later a food and beverage manager at the Boomtown casino near Reno. CLARA HAGOPIAN JOBS. Daughter of Armenian

empirically well established. Sociological studies show that faith is strongly correlated with social bonding. Religious commitments encourage civic involvement and build social capital.

A rumble gurgled through the space between them. "Was that you?" She looked down. "Was that me?" "That noise. It sounded like a growl." Well according to you, I am a ferocious car burglar.

The willingness of Democratic administrations to just make war on the NVRA is appalling,” said Popper, whose group sued California over its voter roll failures. California in particular got a special dispensation from Clinton attorney general Janet Reno to operate under an esoteric and erroneous interpretation of the NVRA, leading the state to ignore voter roll maintenance for decades.

I try to remember where I was and what I was doing before I met you, what had been important to me then--and I can't. It's as if I'd been living some other person's life and now all I know is you.

Clinton’s desire to kill them was very clear to us early on,” recalled one of his senior aides. But he did not commit himself all the way. The first MON he signed in the summer of 1998 authorized covert action aimed at taking bin Laden and his aides into custody for trial. The ambiguous language might have been crafted to assure Janet Reno’s support, but Clinton etched his own signature on the memo

Andrew stood, facing Peter and Natalie with a wry smile on his face. "You know, one of the reasons I started this sanctuary is because the best way to treat broken animals is with broken people. Each fixes the other.

rotten fruits and vegetables n. distressed produce sewage plant n. wastewater conveyance facility sewage sludge n. 1. regulated organic ingredients 2. bioslurp 3. organic biomass Some people may call the residue of treated sewage "sludge," but to John Gonzales of the Reno-Sparks, Nevada, sewage treatment plant it's "organic biomass." 4. biosolids It might look like sludge to you, but others call it "biosolids." 5. regulated wastewater residuals

Earth, the startlingly pure blue and white, the brown and silver snakes that are rivers filled with erosion, the fragmented coastlines where the rising seas are eating the land, just as Earth’s remaining resources are being eaten by the population. Soon the population may be the only resource left. The Orbitals were once their hope, a gateway to new resources. Now the Orbitals stand like a wall between Earth and its broken dreams, claiming the future for their own. Reno

Las Vegas is the most extreme and allegorical of American settlements, bizarre and beautiful in its venality and in its devotion to immediate gratification, a place the tone of which is set by mobsters and call girls and ladies’ room attendants with amyl nitrite poppers in their uniform pockets. Almost everyone notes that there is no “time” in Las Vegas, no night and no day and no past and no future (no Las Vegas casino, however, has taken the obliteration of the ordinary time sense quite so far as Harold’s Club in Reno, which for a while issued, at odd intervals in the day and night, mimeographed “bulletins” carrying news from the world outside); neither is there any logical sense of where one is. One is standing on a highway in the middle of a vast hostile desert looking at an eighty-foot sign which blinks ”stardust” or “caesar’s palace.” Yes, but what does that explain? This geographical implausibility reinforces the sense that what happens there has no connection with “real” life; Nevada cities like Reno and Carson are ranch towns, Western towns, places behind which there is some historical imperative. But Las Vegas seems to exist only in the eye of the beholder. All of which makes it an extraordinarily stimulating and interesting place, but an odd one in which to want to wear a candlelight satin Priscilla of Boston wedding dress with Chantilly lace insets, tapered sleeves and a detachable modified train.

ROBERT IGER. Succeeded Eisner as Disney CEO in 2005. JONATHAN “JONY” IVE. Chief designer at Apple, became Jobs’s partner and confidant. ABDULFATTAH “JOHN” JANDALI. Syrian-born graduate student in Wisconsin who became biological father of Jobs and Mona Simpson, later a food and beverage manager at the Boomtown casino near Reno. CLARA HAGOPIAN JOBS. Daughter of Armenian immigrants, married Paul Jobs in 1946; they adopted Steve soon after his birth in 1955. ERIN JOBS. Middle child of Laurene Powell and

Aku jatuh cinta sama kamu, setiap saat aku lihat kamu tersenyum, kamu adalah wanita yang paling hebat yang aku ketahui selain mamaku, kamu gak akan pernah menunjukan kepedihan kamu, seberapa besar penyakit yang kamu hadapi, kamu selalu hadapi dengan tersenyum bahkan senyum kamu itu sudah meruntuhkan semua keangkuhan aku, orang – orang bilang kalau kita hanya memiliki 1 kali kesempatan untuk mencintai orang tapi bagi aku salah, Aku selalu jatuh cinta sama kamu setiap kali aku melihat kamu tersenyum” - Reno

The stable ground is disappearing. You’re either going up or going down. The upshot is widespread unhappiness. Even the successful are consumed by a spirit of anxious striving. Too often despair overtakes those struggling, stumbling, and falling behind. We

And then he saw the tears begin to slide down her bruised face. “How badly are you hurt?” He should have checked her chart on the way in, but he'd wanted to get out of sight as quickly as possible. “Nothing interesting,” she said, sounding faintly disgruntled. “Just a sprained ankle and some bruises. It's my heart.” “Your heart?” he echoed, panicked. “Do you have internal injuries...?” “It's broken,” she said, soft, plaintive, the tears still sliding down her face. He muttered a curse. It was just the drugs talking, but he could feel his own heart twist inside. She lay in the middle of the wide hospital bed, but she was looking very small, and he simply climbed up beside her, pulling her into his arms with exquisite care, not wanting to hurt her any more. She let out a small sound, and for a moment he thought it was a cry of pain, but then she moved closer, putting her face against his shoulder, and he could feel her crying. “I missed you,” she said, her voice muffled. “I know.” He held her gently—she suddenly felt fragile, and he'd almost been too late.

rock Moore Brock has enough on his hands as alpha bear shifter and Lieutenant of his firefighter rescue team, handling a serious case of dangerous fires around the Reno-Sparks , Nevada area. Family has always come first, and when his mother phones him with a cryptic message, he knows something's up. It's another reason he's hesitant to take the next step with Sky, the shapely, captivating and feisty bombshell he wishes he could one day call his one true mate ... if only there weren't so many barriers and secrets standing in their way. Somehow, all those hurdles start to seem small when

Thanks, you guys." Fiona smiled. "I haven't been with anyone since Jackson and I split. I hate to act like such a hoochie mama, but---" "Hey. There's a little hoochie mama in all of us," Charli said. "Didn't I tell you how I finally got Reno to make the big move?" "No." "The famous Wilder barbecue party? While we were dancing, I conveniently told him I'd forgotten to put panties on under my dress. He could barely keep his hands to himself. Then I told him if he was interested, I'd meet him back at his house." "Oooh, devious." Abby laughed. "Was there any rubber left on his tires?" "Nope." Charli grinned. "But that was one hoochie-mama move I'll never regret.

The reconstitution of elite WASP culture as post-Protestant and ethnically diverse but intellectually homogeneous is the most important change in American society of the past half-century. It explains the culture wars of recent decades far more effectively than the standard overemphasis of the role of the Religious Right. Conservative

Sassy had worked in El Paso, Texas as a waitress in a small café, a toll-booth cashier in Houston, Texas, posed nude for magazine photos in Reno, Nevada and even was a ski instructor in Granby, Colorado for a few years. Sassy was always looking. She was looking for something that she couldn’t find. Sassy wanted to go where the road led. She walked past other people’s dreams and security and followed the twisting snake through deserts and mountains, big cities and cow towns. Sassy was on a quest and she didn’t even know it. She would take her small earnings and saddle-up, following fate or hope or desire into new horizons with new promises--a skinny green-eyed girl carrying a backpack full of her life, down the roads of America.

Educated, well-to-do Baby Boomers are disciplined in their hedonism, careful that their peccadillos don’t impede their scramble for success. For the most part, the rich have developed a relatively safe and moderate approach to drugs, and for the few who haven’t, well, there’s professional help. Decriminalization of marijuana won’t hurt the strong. But what about the weak? Kids who use marijuana regularly get lower test scores, are more likely to drop out of high school, and are less likely to go to college. And who are they? A 2011 study reports that children of parents who have not completed high school are twice as likely to smoke marijuana as children of those who have completed college. Again, new freedoms harm the vulnerable. The

The Terminal I pace the Greyhound waiting room, that famished void on the outskirts of Reno between the Atavans and Ambiens, filled with the stench of the homeless and the suicide ticking of attoseconds. It is a zombie casino with no clocks partitioned with great walls of glass. On the other side of the glass I see people take tokens from Big Gulp sized cups and feed them into the mute ears of bandits. They are the gamblers whose tokens are redeemed into winnings. They breathe without conscious effort and board their buses. On my side of the glass there are no gamblers, no buses, no exits. There are just Dixie cups of meds to transport me through REMless dreams to awaken another day in the same terminal waiting and breathing, breathing and waiting for the glass to shatter so I may redeem my fist full of tokens.

Feminist-dominated administrations in the United States have elevated child protection to a paramilitary operation. In 1993, US Attorney General Janet Reno used unsubstantiated child abuse rumors to launch military operations against American citizens in Waco, Texas, resulting in the deaths of 24 children that she was ostensibly protecting. The militarization of child protection was seen again in the largest seizure of children in American history, when almost five hundred children were seized from their polygamous parents in the Fundamentalist Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints without any evidence of abuse. “A night-time raid with tanks, riot police, SWAT teams, snipers, and cars full of Texas Rangers and sheriff’s deputies—that is the new face of state child protection,” writes attorney Gregory Hession, “social workers backed up with automatic weapons.

In the time of chimpanzees, I was a monkey Butane in my veins and I'm out to cut the junkie With the plastic eyeballs, spray paint the vegetables Dog food stalls with the beefcake pantyhose Kill the headlights and put it in neutral Stock car flamin' with a loser in the cruise control Baby's in Reno with the Vitamin D Got a couple of couches, sleep on the love seat Someone came in sayin' I'm insane to complain About a shotgun wedding and a stain on my shirt Don't believe everything that you breathe You get a parking violation and a maggot on your sleeve So shave your face with some mace in the dark Savin' all your food stamps and burnin' down the trailer park Yo, cut it Soy un perdedor I'm a loser, baby, so why don't you kill me? (Double barrel buckshot) Soy un perdedor I'm a loser baby, so why don't you kill me? Forces of evil on a bozo nightmare Ban all the music with a phony gas chamber 'Cause one's got a weasel and the other's got a flag One's on the pole, shove the other in a bag With the rerun shows and the cocaine nose-job The daytime crap of the folksinger slob He hung himself with a guitar string A slab of turkey neck and it's hangin' from a pigeon wing You can't write if you can't relate Trade the cash for the beef, for the body, for the hate And my time is a piece of wax fallin' on a termite That's chokin' on the splinters Soy un perdedor I'm a loser baby, so why don't you kill me? (Get crazy with the cheese whiz) Soy un perdedor I'm a loser baby, so why don't you kill me? (Drive-by body pierce) Yo, bring it on down I'm a driver, I'm a winner Things are gonna change, I can feel it Soy un perdedor I'm a loser baby, so why don't you kill me? (I can't believe you) Soy un perdedor I'm a loser baby, so why don't you kill me? Soy un perdedor I'm a loser baby, so why don't you kill me? (Sprechen sie Deutsche, baby) Soy un perdedor I'm a loser, baby, so why don't you kill me? (Know what I'm sayin'?)

The bus trip from Denver to Frisco was uneventful except that my whole soul leaped to it the nearer we got to Frisco. Cheyenne again, in the afternoon this time, and then west over the range; crossing the Divide at midnight at Creston, arriving at Salt Lake City at dawn—a city of sprinklers, the least likely place for Dean to have been born; then out to Nevada in the hot sun, Reno by nightfall, its twinkling Chinese streets; then up the Sierra Nevada, pines, stars, mountain lodges signifying Frisco romances—a little girl in the back seat, crying to her mother, “Mama when do we get home to Truckee?” And Truckee itself, homey Truckee, and then down the hill to the flats of Sacramento. I suddenly realized I was in California. Warm, palmy air—air you can kiss—and palms. Along the storied Sacramento River on a superhighway; into the hills again; up, down; and suddenly the vast expanse of a bay (it was just before dawn) with the sleepy lights of Frisco festooned across.

Each scenario is about fifteen million years into the future, and each assumes that the Pacific Plate will continue to move northwest at about 2.0 inches per year relative to the interior of North America. In scenario 1, the San Andreas fault is the sole locus of motion. Baja California and coastal California shear away from the rest of the continent to form a long, skinny island. A short ferry ride across the San Andreas Strait connects LA to San Francisco. In scenario 2, all of California west of the Sierra Nevada, together with Baja California, shears away to the northwest. The Gulf of California becomes the Reno Sea, which divides California from Nevada. The scene is reminiscent of how the Arabian Peninsula split from Africa to open the Red Sea some 5 million years ago. In scenario 3, central Nevada splits open through the middle of the Basin and Range province. The widening Gulf of Nevada divides the continent form a large island composed of Washington, Oregon, California, Baja California, and western Nevada. The scene is akin to Madagascar’s origin when it split form eastern Africa to open the Mozambique Channel.

A recent book by University of Chicago professor of philosophy and law Brian Leiter outlines what I believe will become the theoretical consensus that does away with religious liberty in spirit if not in letter. “There is no principled reason,” he writes, “for legal or constitutional regimes to single out religion for protection.” . . . Evoking the principle of fairness, Leiter argues that everybody’s conscience should be accorded the same legal protections. Thus he proposes to replace religious liberty with a plenary “liberty of conscience.” Leiter’s argument is libertarian. He wants to get the government out of the business of deciding whose conscience is worth protecting. This mentality seems to expand freedom, but that’s an illusion. In practice it will lead to diminished freedom, as is always the case with any thoroughgoing libertarianism.

Colonel Carrington was able to construct three forts in the Powder River country: Fort C.F. Smith in Montana and Forts Reno and Phil Kearny in Wyoming. But Lakota and Cheyenne warriors raided the forts again and again, seizing supply wagons, attacking the men

My family taught me an alternate perspective. Greek mythology was completely borrowed from Polynesian and Pacific Island folklore.

You're eighteen years old and you graduated high school. You're Filipino and American. But what if everything you know is predicated on assumptions about the world that are misleading and false?

The history of the islands is fleeting, but when one remembers, it's the land of a thousand unknown tribes written out of history.

Moonlight streamed through the uncovered bedroom window, reflecting off the glass and touching my legs. My skin emitted a caramel radiance. I absorbed the warmth and privately thanked Bathala and my ancestors for their guidance.

And though there were far fewer radio opportunities for black bands than for their white counterparts, it was through remote broadcasts from the Cotton Club that the general public first heard of Duke Ellington and Cab Calloway. Earl Hines had become a radio favorite during a long stand at the Grand Terrace in Chicago in the mid-1930s. And it was on a radio broadcast from the Reno Club in Kansas City that Count (William) Basie was discovered by jazz critic John Hammond, who helped launch Basie’s career.

I´ve always been a firm believer," David said,...,"that the only ignorant question is the one that isn´t asked.

Then, on December 14, 1999, an alert United States Customs agent in Port Angeles, Washington, stopped a nervous twenty-three-year-old Algerian named Ahmed Ressam who was crossing over from Canada on the last ferry of the evening. He had explosives in his trunk and plans to blow them up at the Los Angeles International Airport. The case galvanized the government into an all-out millennium alert. Watson and the White House counterterrorism group met around the clock. They sought an extraordinary number of FISA wiretaps; Janet Reno authorized at least one warrantless search on her own authority. Clarke

When I was twelve, Flip came through Reno and gave out autographs at a casino. I didn't have a glossy photo for him to sign, so I had him sign my hand. For weeks I took a shower with a plastic bag over that hand, rubbed-banded at the wrist. It wasn't quite a romantic infatuation. There are levels of readiness. Young girls don't entertain the idea of sex, their body and another's together. That comes later, but there isn't nothing before it. There's an innocent displacement, a dreaming, and idols are perfect for a little girl's dreaming. They aren't real. They aren't the gas station attendant trying to lure you into the back of the service station, a paperboy trying to lure you into a tool-shed, a friend's father trying to lure you into his car. They don't lure. They beckon, but like desert mirages. Flip Farmer was safely unreachable. He was something special. I chose him from among all the men in the world, and he signed the back of my hand and smiled with very white, straight teeth. He gave us each that same smile, the children and adults who lined up at Hannah's. We weren't individuals but a surface he moved over, smiling and remote. The thing was, if he had returned my gaze, I probably would have washed his autograph from my hand.

Through the familiar orbit east of Reno, the brothels and wrecking yards, the big puffing power plant and its cat’s cradle of coils and springs and fencing, an occasional freight train and the meandering and summer-shallow Truckee River, railroad tracks and river escorting me to Fernley, where they both cut north.

North of Las Vegas, desert and mountainous scrub land stretches for hundreds of miles. The earth still bears the scars from above-ground nuclear bomb tests at Yucca Flats, the flash of mushroom clouds visible from the early Las Vegas casinos. Secret tests of another sort take place in Area 51, the Air Force’s clandestine base and sprawling testing facility shrouded in mystery and baked by an unrelenting sun. In the 450 miles between Vegas and Reno, ghost towns slowly crumble, Great Basin rattlesnakes hunt for rodents, and US Highway 95 stretches up and down the arid landscape, connecting the state’s only two metropolitan areas.

Sitting Bull is known today for stalwart resistance, for being the last of his tribe to surrender to the U.S. government. But at the Little Bighorn, he did not want to fight. He wanted to talk. This may be his most important legacy. As he recognized when he instructed his nephew to approach Reno’s skirmish line with a shield instead of a rifle, our children are best served not by a self-destructive blaze of glory, but by the hardest path of all: survival and accommodation.

uninformed skepticism is the domain of fools.

achieved an outcome that he could call a victory by capturing fifty-three women and children. But in the process, he failed to support his detachment of scouts led by Major Joel Elliott. The detachment was killed and butchered by an army of warriors that Custer didn’t know was there. Benteen, for one, never forgave Custer for failing to make a stronger effort to save Elliott and the scouts. Now, Custer faced a similar problem. He believed the noncombatants were running north from the village. But to his south, Reno’s battalion was in danger of being destroyed. He couldn’t capture the noncombatants and save Reno at the same time. As Custer deliberated, his youngest brother, Boston, rode up. Boston had ridden back to the pack train to exchange his horse for a fresh mount. Along the way, he passed Benteen’s battalion, and now he told his brother that Benteen’s men were on the trail to the battlefield and the pack train was only a mile behind them. Custer decided he needed a better view of the landscape. He led his column farther north, across a wide ravine and up onto a high ridge. From there, he saw even more of the village and realized it was even larger than he’d previously believed. He also saw a dust cloud to the south that he thought was a sign of Benteen’s battalion. If Benteen hurried as ordered, he could reunite with Custer in less than half an hour. That thought solidified the decision in Custer’s mind, and Custer explained his plan to his senior officers. Custer split his command into two wings. He told his old friend Captain George Yates to lead the smaller wing, with two of the five companies, over the hills and down a ravine toward the river. Yates would make a big show of acting like he was going to charge across the river and into the village, but in reality, he would secure a place to cross for the rest of the column. Custer would stay with the larger wing—the three companies commanded by Captain Myles Keogh—and wait for Benteen. If Benteen arrived soon, his three companies would join with Keogh’s three companies and rush down to Yates’s position. Then all eight companies would cross the river together and storm the village. If Benteen was delayed, then Keogh’s companies would fire

Уважати всі форми дистресу проявом (психічного) розладу - це серйозна епістемологічна помилка.

У сучасному суспільстві людські страждання залишаються невидимими, поки їх не одягнуть у психологічне чи психічне вбрання.

It’s unusual for a woman to shoot herself in the head.” “She was raised in Reno,” Greta explained. “She was familiar with guns.” “Did she leave a note?

GEORGE Man-Walking held a sweet feeling for Mary Trout and her dog, Reno. Three weeks on the road, he'd come by, bring her trinkets, keepsakes from his route, a red thermometer, odd buttons, a pin made of acorns, soap. He'd have a bag for Reno, too, some chop bones, bits of biscuit. Mary died one summer and George took Reno home, kept bringing trinkets to the dog, filled its little house with stuff until it ran away.

She shook her head. “I guess I’m just not as badass as you.” I smiled. “Nobody expects you to be. Reno is all the badass a woman could ask for.

Books represent the collected knowledge of mankind,

Wait!” April shouted, jogging toward me. “You forgot your—” April stumbled and Reno caught her, but my purse went flying toward me and hit the floor, spilling out all the contents. Including a tampon. Kill me now.