Robert Webb Quotes

You know, Mr. Webb, you have two commands you use with irritating frequency. 'Move' and 'Let's go.

Yes of course there's always someone worse off than you. But imagine you're in a doctor's surgery with a broken arm. The person next to you has two broken arms, the person next to him has two broken arms and a broken leg. This is all very well, but the point is that you have a broken arm and it hurts.

One way of imagining life is that it’s a competition between love and death. Death always wins, of course, but love is there to make its victory a hollow one. That’s what love is for.

The great thing about refusing to feel feelings is that, once you’ve denied them, you don’t have to take responsibility for them. Your feelings will be someone else’s problem – your mother’s problem, your girlfriend’s problem, your wife’s problem. If it has to come out at all, let it come out as anger. You’re allowed to be angry. It’s boyish and man-like to be angry.

REST IS THE BEST WEAPON..BATTLES WON AND LOST" ((page 209 )) JACKAL CHALLENGING BOURNE : " Paris, Jason Bourne! Paris if you dare! Or shall it be a minor university in Maine. Dr,Webb? ((page 276))... JACKALS WARNING, IN PRINTED WORDS IN A BLACK BUTCHER'S PENCIL ((at an country restaurant Epernon, Paris )) "The trees of Tannenbaum will burn and children will be the kindling. Sleep well Jason Bourne

All my rage and fear welled up inside me, and expressed its self in biscuit form.

It’s everywhere: a system of thought and a set of invented and discriminatory practices in our laws, culture and economy that feminists call the patriarchy. Feminists are not out to get us. They’re out to get the patriarchy. They don’t hate men, they hate The Man. They’re our mates. The patriarchy was created for the convenience of men, but it comes at a heavy cost to ourselves and to everyone else.

I suspect Dr. Robert L. Webb may be theologically a 'hyper-Calvinist' of the Jesse Mercer persuasion." ~R. Alan Woods [2013]

Will patrols his heterosexuality like a prison guard who has recently lost faith in the penal system. Or maybe one who favours reform of the penile system (thanks and sorry . . .).

If you want us to remain friends, then I think you need to get used to the idea that other people are real

Men's rights activists tend to make a series of valid observations from which they proceed to a single, 180-degree-wrong conclusion. They are correct to point out that, worldwide, suicide is the most common form of death for men under fifty. It's also true that men are more likely than women to have serious problems with alcohol, that men die younger, that the prison population is 95 per cent male and that the lack of support for our returning frontline soldiers is a national disgrace. So far, so regrettably true. They are incorrect, however, to lay any of this at the door of 'feminism', a term which they use almost interchangeably with 'women'. [...] No, sir. No, lads. No, Daddy. That won't help us and it won't help anyone else. Men in trouble are often in trouble precisely because they are trying to Get a Grip and Act Like a Man. We are at risk of suicide because the alternative is to ask for help, something we have been repeatedly told is unmanly. We are in prison because the traditional breadwinning expectation of manhood can't be met, or the pressure to conform is too great, or the option of violence has been frowned upon but implicitly sanctioned since we were children. [...] We die younger than women because, for one thing, we don't go to the doctor. We don't take ourselves too seriously. We don't want to be thought self-indulgent. The mark of a real man is being able to tolerate a chest infection for three months before laying off the smokes or asking for medicine.

Webb? Wrote a book listing forty-nine possible solutions to Fermi’s Paradox—and demolished them one by one, leaving only the fiftieth solution, namely: we’re alone?” He looked as if he’d chased his lemon with milk. “Webb was an idiot. His analysis presumed that if other life did exist, it could not be more intelligent than him. It was the characteristic flaw of the entire PreCollapse millennium: the assumption of vastly more knowledge than they actually possessed.

Yes. I trusted Amanda," Pierce says, leaning back again in his chair. "And yet you cheated on her with your neighbour," Moen breaks in. He fixes a hard look on her. He finds her annoying, picking away at him. "That was a moment of stupidity. Becky came on to me. I shouldn't have done it. Just because I did something wrong, it doesn't mean my wife did." "Doesn't it?" Moen asks, arching an eyebrow. He doesn't like her. He doesn't like either one of them. He considers getting up and leaving. He knows he's within his rights to do so - he's here voluntarily. Moen continues to goad him. "You haven't asked who was having an affair with your wife." "Maybe because I don't want to know," Robert says bluntly. "Or maybe it's because you know already?" Webb suggests. Robert gives the detective a hostile look. "Why would you say that?" "We think she was sleeping with your neighbour, Larry Harris." He is suddenly furious, but tries to tamp down his anger. "I didn't know." "Sure, you didn't," Webb says pleasantly. "That's not why you slept with Becky Harris, is it, to get back at your wife's lover? You wouldn't do that, would you? Just like you wouldn't kill your wife.

And yes, women do it too – of course they do. The difference is that they haven’t been encouraged since childhood to wear a total lack of self-awareness as a badge of pride. On the contrary, the message they’ve been getting is that they are ‘intuitive’. They are ‘nurturers’ and ‘good listeners’. They’re there to intuitively tell men to go to the doctor and to nurturingly sort out the laundry. Luckily, they can also ‘multi-task’, so they can do both at the same time, as well as booking their kids’ dental appointments and making a lasagne. Sadly, men can’t ‘multi-task’ apparently, which must be the reason we tend to take a step back from all that.

And my parents knew, because Barbara [Stanwyck] called their house a few times looking for me. I finally told them we were seeing each other, although I didn't give them all the details. They met her once, at a party at Clifton Webb's house, and my mother was upset that I was in love with an older woman. As for my father, as with most other events in my life, he was not in my corner. And I eventually told Spencer Tracy about it. All he said was, "Wonderful! Are you happy? If you're happy, that's all that matters.

Greek for Preachers by Joseph M. Webb and Robert Kysar to learn the basics about those forms where Greek and English do differ the most (without having to master an entire Greek grammar) and to see all kinds of illustrations and applications of how busy preachers can responsibly use these grammatical insights.[21] A

It will be some time before I realise that in acting, as in many jobs, a) you get better results when you collaborate instead of compete, and b) given the choice, only cunts prefer to compete.

You might think I had a massive advantage when it came to acquiring confidence because, as a white boy in a rich, free western country, I was under the heavy impression that this was my world and I was the default human. But that’s not confidence, that’s just a wrong-headed sense of entitlement.

I don't mean to bum you out but... we're all going to die. The thing is, very few of us actually believe it. We look at pictures of people who have died and marvel at the pathos. 'Ah, there's Jean all smiling. She didn't know she'd be dead in three months.' Well, maybe Jean knew and maybe she didn't. But what she didn't do was go around hoping to provide someone else with a satisfying sense of dramatic irony. Nobody lives like that and it's odd that we do it to the dead sometimes.

Ed è quando si è innamorati che si vive davvero nel presente: quando ogni istante è una scoperta, ogni minimo dettaglio è intriso di significato. Il lutto, invece... il lutto è il contrario del significato; il lutto è uno spazio dove il presente non respira; dove il passato si estende a perdita d'occhio; è quando ogni istante muore prima ancora di arrivare. Robert Webb "Due volte il primo amore

Si ritrovò a combattere la memoria muscolare, l'impulso inveterato a cercare di proteggerlo, di incoraggiarlo: a dargli ciò che voleva invece di quello che gli serviva. Il comportamento di un cattivo genitore. Ma era un atteggiamento tutto sbagliato: lei non era sua madre. Robert Webb, "Due volte il primo amore

People have debated these matters ever since. Was Keynes merely a speculator in ideas or was he a saviour who brought a diseased world a new hope of health? The Fabian Beatrice Webb wrote: ‘Keynes is not serious about economic problems; he plays a game of chess with it in his leisure hours. The only serious cult with him is aesthetics.’ To Russell Leffingwell, a US Treasury official who negotiated with Keynes at the Paris Peace Conference in 1919, Keynes was ‘always perverse, Puckish… a bright boy, shocking his admiring elders by questioning the existence of God, and the Ten Commandments!

One way of imagining life is that it’s a competition between love and death. Death always wins, of course, but love is there to make its victory a hollow one.

Another mystery concerns the fact that this white star has so often been described as “greenish” or “pale emerald”. Olcott refers to it as “the only naked-eyel star that is green in color”, while T.W.Webb refers to its “beautiful pale green hue”.

Walter Prescott Webb’s The Texas Rangers, Robert Utley’s Lone Star Justice, and Mike Cox’s Wearing the Cinco Peso: A History of the Texas Rangers.

I’ve settled at the disappointing end of clever or the hopeful side of dim.

You can get away with some amazingly bad behaviour, it turns out, as long as your predecessors were complete shits.

Communal showering is a fresh hell that concludes every Games lesson the way an awkward exchange of details concludes a car crash.

In children, it’s about as easy to find conclusive evidence of a ‘male brain’ or ‘female brain’ as it is to find conclusive evidence of an immortal soul.

Of all the things I currently want these Cambridge people to think I am – witty, clever, sophisticated, ambiguous, sexy, ironic, exciting, artistic, self-possessed, self-aware – it doesn’t occur to me that ‘kind’ should be at the top of the list. Nor ‘brave’ or ‘honest’ or even ‘reliable’. I think, at this time, that these virtues are too obvious, too boring and too typical of some kind of normal man. No, as long as you’re very serious about not being like your dad, you don’t really need to be ‘good’ at all. What is ‘good’ anyway? This is the method by which I give myself permission to start acting like a liar and a sleazebag.

He bangs his hand on the table. ‘I knew it! You like a bit of both, boy! Fair enough, mate. You just like shagging and you’re not fussy! It’s not my scene, but God knows, with women, even I’ve sometimes nearly put it in the wrong hole, so to speak. Good old boy.

If I understand two things about masculinity at the age of seven, it is a) the Sovereign Importance of Early Homophobia, and b) the Paramount Objective of Despising Girls. Nobody wants to be a gay and only gays play with girls – this much has been made clear.

What do you want to be when you grow up then, boy?’ he asks. I do the usual. ‘Computers.’ It’s the fastest way to close down this sensitive line of enquiry. Nobody over twenty has the faintest idea what a job involving computers could possibly mean, so it works well.

At the birthday parties of friends I wait for the moment when someone’s mum clears away what’s left of the Angel Delight and says plaintively, ‘I wish they were all like you, Robert.’ Which is to say, ‘I wish they were all as quiet as you, Robert.’ I’m almost indignant if I don’t get that compliment at some stage. But then, I’m also uneasy, because I know that boys are not supposed to be quiet.

You’re not going to pinch this, are you?’ ‘What? I mean, sorry?’ ‘You’re not going to add this one to your collection?’ ‘Oh, Christ no!’ Ooh. Am I allowed to say Christ? The panic makes her smile and then she takes a beat for herself, scanning the shelves. ‘Pity,’ she says, ‘nobody steals from the library any more. It’s a bad sign.

And you can sometimes tilt the playing field in your own favour. You don’t discreetly lift the surface of a game of table football (or foosball) unless you’re an outrageous cheat. It’s acceptable to do so, however, if your opponent is the one in your mind who keeps saying ‘stop being alive’. Going for a brisk walk or having a cup of tea are a couple of harmless ways to change the chemistry of your body enough, maybe, to change your frame of mind. At least, it works for some of the people some of the time. If your opponent wants you dead, tilt the table. Tea, exercise, talking therapy, meditation, prescribed anti-depressants . . . different things tilt different tables. Whatever works for you.

Milt Copulos, a friend of Jim Webb, spent three and a half years in the hospital and received the last rites seven times as a result of his Vietnam service. He put it this way: “There’s a wall ten miles high and fifty miles thick between those of us who went and those who didn’t, and that wall is never going to come down.

The antiwar movement was of little interest for Webb in those days. He did not recognize the strength and depth of it. As a platoon leader in the bush, he did not have much time for reflection or intellectual musings. There was also a credibility problem. In the America in which Jim Webb grew up, it was inconceivable that the nation could be at war and tens of thousands of men his own age might connive to avoid it, knowing all the while that other young men of similar promise and equally lofty dreams risked living out their futures in darkness,

We tend to underplay the significance of something when it is not significant to our immediate frame of reference. In the mid-1990s, Clifford Stoll said that the internet couldn’t survive in part because of a “wasteland of unfiltered data” where there was no way to search for information easily. Because Stoll was an early super-user, his vision was naturally limited to the Internet v1.0’s significant shortcomings. Robert Metcalfe was similarly biased by his own expertise. He was questioning capacity—How could the internet continue to grow without suffering outages? A lack of coordination and cooperation between the first Internet Service Providers had already led to big network problems. Without any changes in sight, Metcalfe saw outages rather than advancements

That's the thing about kind people: I can never live up to them.

This early marketing of Cash to the rock market would prove to be of major significance in his career. Even if he had made the same records in Nashville, he might simply have been viewed as another hillbilly star—like Webb Pierce or Ray Price. But his ties to Elvis and Phillips and Sun Records would forever give Cash credibility in the wider, more culturally important rock ’n’ roll market.

The Trick is a stupefying waste of everyone’s time. It creates barriers, not just between men and women, but between mothers and daughters and fathers and sons. To oppose it has been the cause of feminists for many years. It’s a cause I share.

Early on a spring morning, Policemen Robert Coffman and Jack Carter are working the night watch out of Central Division.

Hemingway writes of people becoming stronger in the broken places, which is a heartening thought, and sometimes true. All too often, though, it belongs in the file that Jim Webb labeled typical Hemingway bullshit.

Avoid wankers bearing gifts.

Self-respect and kindness to others: that's it. That's how we restore freedom to the galaxy …