Riel Quotes

Simon?” “Yeah?” “Can you tell me a story?” He blinked. “What kind of story?” “Something where the good guys win and the bad guys lose. A nd stay dead.” “So, like a fairy tale?” he said. He racked his brain. He knew only the Disney versions of fairy tales, and the first knew only the Disney versions of fairy tales, and the first image that came to mind was A riel in her seashell bra. He’d had a crush on her when he was eight. Not that this seemed like the time to mention it. “No.” The word was an exhaled breath. “We study fairy tales in school. A lot of that magic is real—but, anyway. No, I want something I haven’t heard yet.” “Okay. I’ve got a good one.” Simon stroked Isabelle’s hair, feeling her lashes flutter against his neck as she closed her eyes. “A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…

The whole crowd interrupted and told him, 'No, we won't let you go. You have worked hard for our rights and you can't quit now.' 'Then,' said Riel, 'if I must, I will desert.' 'If you desert, we will desert with you.

Tanker trives bedst i ensomhed

— У нас никогда не будят спящего человека. — Почему? — А потому, что когда человек спит, он чуть-чуть умирает. Когда он спит, его душа путешествует, и, если разбудить его не вовремя, еще неизвестно, найдет ли его душа дорогу обратно.

It used to be that you could get a lot of recognition by writing about Canada, as long as it was about small towns and nature.' 'Really?' 'Yeah. You could have canoes and the prairies or, also, sad women, very sad women who were fat or whose husbands had left them or something. There was a lady who wrote about fucking a bear, which was like a union with the land. There was a lady who wrote about mystical experiences she had at a cottage in northern Ontario. I was never sure what that was about. They were very important at one time, very stern and important. I had to study them in school. Anyway, he was one of them. He concentrated on the prairies, with a lot of native names, and wise native people, like there's a young boy with an Ojibway grandmother who will teach him the ways of the forest, sort of thing, and there's a lot of history, like a lot of the Riel rebellion for example.' 'The what?' 'History. And there's a lot of disaster, on the prairies, like people having to rebuild their sod houses after floods and so on.' They drove on the humming highway for a while. Then Nicola said, 'So you haven't answered my question.' 'What question?' 'Do you think he's any good?' 'Oh. The thing is... it's not, it doesn't matter. It's important. So it doesn't matter if I think it's good or not.' 'Okay. So it doesn't matter. So I'm asking you. What you think. Do. You. Think. It's. Good.' She slapped her bare thigh. James paused for a long moment... He said, 'There's one Boben book, I think it's Cold Season, or maybe it's Comfort of Winter, which ends with the line, "a story which Canadians must never tire of telling." What do you think of that line? A story which Canadians must never tire of telling.' She shrugged. 'I have no idea.' 'I'll tell you what you think of it. You don't give a shit. I'll tell you what I think of it. I don't give a shit either. But I also think it's the worst bullshit I've ever heard. I think,' he said, accelerating, 'that Ludwig Boben is a fucking asshole.

Object-Oriented Design Heuristics (1996), Arthur Riel

Дети не знали, что такое время. Устав, они засыпали, случалось, играли среди ночи, ели, если голод напоминал о себе, и работали, когда им хотелось. Может быть, именно поэтому взрослые эскимосы всегда были веселы и счастливы. –У нас не бывает войны, – сказала она. – Может быть, потому, что у нас всего немного. У нас всё общее, и нам не надо того, что есть у других. – Я рад, что попал к вам, – пробормотал Лейв, уже засыпая. – У вас я научился жить, как живут люди. Они научили его жить так, как живут люди, научили справляться со всем собственными силами, делиться со всеми и жить в братстве. В Исландии, впрочем, как и у исландцев, живших в Гренландии, люди боролись, чтобы завладеть чужой собственностью. Здесь же люди не видели разницы между "отдать" и "взять". Они вели честную и достойную жизнь. Они тихо и незаметно покинули стойбище, как было принято у эскимосов. Люди уезжали, когда знали, что это нужно, и возвращались, когда дело было сделано. – У нас никогда не будят спящего человека. – Почему? – А потому, что когда человек спит, он чуть-чуть умирает. Когда он спит, его душа путешествует, и, если разбудить его невовремя, ещё неизвестно, найдёт ли его душа дорогу обратно. – Когда человек испытывает радость, ему нужно петь и танцевать, – объяснила Наруа. – Так принято у людей: ноги не могут устоять на месте, и радость вырывается из человека потоком всяких необычных слов. Апулук с улыбкой наблюдал за Сёльви. – Сёльви – человек, как и мы с Наруа, – объяснил он Лейву. – А вот ты всё ещё исландец, если тебя удивляет человек, получивший в дар радость.

Redzi, Lasīt, mēs šeit, ziemeļos, esam gandrīz kā iesākums tam visam. No garrokainajiem, kas spriņģoja apkārt ledus laikmetā apmēram tādos pašos apstākļos kā mēs, mēs neesam attālinājušies tik daudz, lai nespētu atgriezties atpakaļ. Mēs esam visa civilizācija, bet mēs esam arī tās sākums.

C’est pour cette raison que les Anomalies sont si importantes. Même en considérant ce que Riel a perdu, qui et ce que sont les Anomalies mérite qu’on se batte. Parce que savoir ce que les gens ressentent vraiment – au plus profond d’eux – peut créer une différence. Ça peut contribuer à rendre le monde meilleur. Plus sincère et plus optimiste. Même si tout n’y sera pas forcément parfait. Même si ce n’est pas un talent qu’on est capable d’identifier et de disséquer.

Literacy

All hope of generating new ideas dissipates. Why bother coming up with new ideas if Julia is just going to kill them?

Integrative thinking isn’t about “doing both” but rather about finding an answer that takes the best of both to produce outcomes that are preferable to existing ones.

History calls them a defeated people, but the Metis do not feel defeated, and that is what is important. Today, as in the old days, they play their fiddles, sing, dance, and tell their children the old stories. They work hard, as they have always done. They do not mind when they are called Metis, halfbreeds, mixed bloods, Canadians or bois-brules. They know who they are: 'Ka tip aim soot chic' -- the people who own themselves" (40).

There was something else about Tuol Sleng that was important, though, beyond the ghosts and the darkness. At night, after it closed to tourists, it opened as a parking garage. Boeung Keng Kang III was not a neighborhood built for cars, and many homes had nowhere at night to park their cars. It was not unusual to see Camrys and Daelim motorcycles parked for the night in someone’s living room. But at Tuol Sleng, for two thousand riel, or fifty cents, you could park from eight o’clock at night until eight in the morning, an hour before the gates opened for tourism. Paul and I each had a motorcycle for the first three years that we lived in Phnom Penh, but eventually I sold mine and we bought a cobbled-together SUV, a Kia Sportage body with a Mitsubishi engine and air-conditioning. Then we, too, became nighttime patrons of the Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum parking lot. We’d pull in to the gate and hand money to one of several guards hanging out in hammocks as a soccer game played on an old television hooked up to a car battery. At first it was hilarious, and then an odd fact we’d share among our friends, and eventually just part of our daily routine. There was the horror and the memory, there were the ghosts and the darkness, but there was also the absolute utilitarian need to go on.

Riel lifts Hannah’s hand to kiss the back of it. A muscle twitches in Micah’s jaw, and Riel notices. He releases her hand.

Yo,” Riel slapped Sila on the side of the arm, “dude, are you being stalked?” Sila laughed. “Of course not. This is all hypothetical,” he returned his gaze to Bay, “Isn’t it, Professor?

If a class contains more than about seven data members, consider whether the class should be decomposed into multiple smaller classes (Riel 1996). You might err more toward the high end of 7±2 if the data members are primitive data types like integers and strings, more toward the lower end of 7±2 if the data members are complex objects.

We folded up newspapers and made them into boats. We'd see whose would float the longest before it got bogged down, soggy, and sank. My father gave us a few pennies each day, which we'd toss and try to land on rocks.We'd wade in and get them again and again.Then we'd flip them in one final time to make a wish. Bliss and I could keep ourselves entertained for hours, but of course we became more and more aware that the whole forest was right there -- waiting for us to explore. We didn't go far at first, not beyond where we could hear Mom call for us from the back door of the barn, but it gave us a whole new playground. We found a fallen log that we walked like a plank. There was a tree with a low straight branch that we could dangle and swing from. We gathered pine cones and tossed and batted them with twigs.

What other people see is a bossy, spoiled little boy. They don't know that sometimes the smallest of changes, like a drop of orange pop on his white t-shirt, can bother him so much he can't wear it any longer, that the stain physically pains him, like the spot becomes a wound bleeding not from the inside out but the outside in.

What other people see is a bossy, spoiled little boy. They don't know that the smallest of changes, like a drop of orange pop on his white t-shirt, can bother him so much he can't wear it any longer, the stain physically pains him, like the spot becomes a wound bleeding not from the inside out but the outside in.

Ya murió el último zapatero. Ya murió el último carrilano. Y un día morirás tú: ¡oh amigo telegrafista!... Nadie dirá: "Murió el último empleado del ferro"... ¡Oh nadie lo dirá! Porque tú, oh pobre amigo... confundido estás: como los rieles desdibujados en las calles, como el surfista muerto al lado de quien nunca alcanzó a ver el mar.

En el libro, Mc-kintosh-Smith se extendía sobre un misterioso país que se había quedado colgado en los rieles del tiempo, donde las telarañas del olvido habían logrado mantener viva la base de la cultura árabe debido al retraído carácter de su gente, que luchaba fervientemente por mantener sus tradiciones y costumbres aisladas de toda influencia occidental. Según pude leer entre líneas, Marruecos era una imagen diluida de lo que una vez fue el mundo árabe, mientras que Yemen, a pesar de su inestabilidad y pobreza, era la imagen primaria. Despu

. Por ejemplo, quería vender rieles de acero al Ferrocarril de Pennsylvania. J. Edgar Thomson era entonces presidente de ese ferrocarril. Y Andrew Carnegie construyó en Pittsburgh una enorme planta de altos hornos a la que puso el nombre de “Edgar Thomson Trabajos de Acero”.

She catches my gaze when I would have turned away.

He chuckled, his eyes twinkling like agates, the first flash of a real personality she’d seen.

One crisis at a time.

Breath held, I will her to speak without making me ask for it, but Riel plays this game better than I do.

The gleam in her eyes tells it all.

The bruises under her eyes are dark enough for Min-xue to dip his brush in and write poetry.

Much as I’d like to feed her her own superior smile sometimes, I still want the woman to like me. And I want her to like herself enough to keep doing what we need her for. Because, God knows, I haven’t got it in me to try.

It was too early for Scotch, unfortunately, because the dusty crystal decanter on the sideboard had never looked so good. Resolutely, Riel turned her back on it.

Riel softened her voice, created a framework that brought Frye in and pushed Hardy out, even as he came forward as if to shoulder between the two women. The stare that locked them was too much for him to break, however, and he fell back.

Riel considered Elspeth, and was considered in turn.

I’m a Conservative, Connie.” “That’s okay,” she answered. “You can switch.

the ability to face constructively the tension of opposing models and instead of choosing one at the expense of the other, to generate a creative resolution of the tension in the form of a new model that contains elements of the individual models but is superior to each.

We’re blind to our blindness. We have very little idea of how little we know. —DANIEL KAHNEMAN

She smiled and admired his fabrics and traced her finger along a line of his stitching. It tickled.

the ‘anti-essentialists’ are quite heterogeneous and in open conflict on certain issues. On the one hand, there are those constituting what Allan Silverman has labelled a new anti-essentialist “orthodoxy”, e.g. Fine, Annas, Moravcsik, McCabe et al.[99] Also classifiable as ‘anti-essentialist’ is a growing body of scholarship that displaces forms as such from a central place in Plato’s ‘ontology’ in favor of unities such as souls and minds (see, e.g., Lloyd Gerson, Knowing Persons; Gerd van Riel, Plato’s Gods). And where in this picture ought one to place the so-called Tübingen school, which displaces the theory of forms in the interest of a doctrine of principles (archai) drawn from the testimonia and careful reading of the dialogues?

Asistiendo encogido junto a la estufa, donde ardía y se apagaba la brazada de ramas verdes que había acarreado el muchacho, Díaz Grey buscaba reunir todo lo que el vehemente repetidor hombre gordo ignoraba de sí mismo. «Nació aquí, en la costa, y las superficies del río, de la arena, del campo lo estuvieron aislando y lo anularon, durante cincuenta años mientras que la frecuencia de la balsa le dio, le mantiene la ilusión de participar en los hechos lejanos que él considera decisivos. No es una persona; es, como todos los habitantes de esta franja del río, una determinada intensidad de existencia que ocupa, se envasa en la forma de su particular manía, su particular idiotez. Porque solo nos diferenciamos por el tipo de autonegación que hemos elegido o nos fue impuesto. Un pequeño país en broma, desde la costa hasta los rieles que limitan la Colonia, donde cada uno cree en su papel y lo juega sin gracia. Y así yo, cuando me distraigo, cuando dejo de estar alerta y participo, soy el doctor Díaz Grey, hago el médico, el hombre de ciencia con conocimientos menos discutibles que los de las viejas que atienden partos, empachos y gualichos en el caserío de la costa. Y así también este pobre hombre, al que me empeño en querer, dejó de ser el auténtico y para siempre ignorado Euclides Barthé hace muchos años y todos, sin desconfianza, lo ven representar el boticario, el herborista, el concejal, y —ahora hasta su muerte— el profeta de los prostíbulos sanmarianos.»

Nous serions un peuple avili et mûr pour l'esclavage.

Giraban cada vez más vertiginosamente, cuando pasaron frente al encargado por -¿décima? ¿decimoquinta?- vez, él se inclinó y la besó, y la cabina rotó zumbando sobre su riel, uniendo los labios de él y de ella de una manera ardiente y excitante e imposible de despegar. Después perdieron velocidad, y su cabina traqueteó sobre el riel con menos ganas, y finalmente se detuvo, meciéndose y oscilando.