Rocky 3 Quotes

I don’t need a happily ever after, J, I just need the ever after part. The adjective can be whatever. Up and down ever after, sometimes rocky ever after, crazy ever after—I don’t give a shit. As long as you stick around, we’ll just do the best we can, day after day.

His fingers curled around her neck and he put his forehead to hers before sharing, “I remember, Rocky. I remember everything. I remember every… fucking… thing.

There's no time like the present, No present like time. And life can be over in the space of a rhyme. There's no gift like friendship And no love like mine. Give me your love to treasure through time.

Our rocky ledge overlooking the valley. Perhaps a little less green than usual, but the blackberry bushes hang heavy with fruit. Here began countless days of hunting and snaring, fishing and gathering, roaming together through the woods, unloading our thoughts while we filled our game bags. This was the doorway to both sustenance and sanity. And we were each other's key.

Let's stick together." "Well, you're going to have to wait here for me there: I'm going to the bathroom." "But how long are you going to be?" "Oh, three hours?" "Rocky . . .

The best part, however, was watching Rocky eat a pile of custard-filled, hot fudge-topped profiteroles. He could swear, after the third bite, she was going to have an orgasm and, watching her, he nearly had one.

Percy stared at his jelly donut. He had a rocky history with Nico di Angelo. The guy had once tricked him into visiting Hades's palace, and Percy had ended up in a cell. But most of the time, Nico sided with the good guys. He certainly didn't deserve slow suffocation in a bronze jar, and Percy couldn't stand seeing Hazel in pain. "We'll rescue him," he promised her. "We have to. The prophecy says he holds the key to endless death.

And reading is a wonderful thing for the mind. I have not been many places in my life. But in books, I have traveled all over the world.

His familiar husky voice sent a wave of wistfulness through me. A thousand memories spun in my head, tangling together- a rocky beach strewn with driftwood trees, a garage made of plastic sheds, warm sodas in a paper bag, a tiny room with one too-small shabby loveseat. The laughter in his deep-set black eyes, the feverish heat of his big hand around mine, the flash of his white teeth against his dark skin, his face stretching into the wide smile that had always been like a key to a secret door where only kindred spirits could enter. It felt sort of like homesickness, this longing for the place and person who had sheltered me through my darkest night.

We gotta have a toast." Rocky on her pins, Peabody used the table for balance. She managed to raise her glass without spilling more than half its contents on Eve's head. "To the best fucking cop in the whole stinking city, who's gonna marry the sexiest sumbitch I, personally, have ever laid eyes on, and who, because she's so goddamn smart, has seen to it that I'm perman'ly attached to Homicide. Which is where any half-blind asshole could tell you I belong. So there." She downed the rest of her drink, fell backward into her chair, and grinned foolishly. "Peabody," Eve said and flicked a finger under her eyes. "I've never been more touched." "I'm shit faced. Dallas." "The evidence points to it.

I lost Ike,' Aunt Josephine said, 'and I lost Lake Lachrymose. I mean, I didn't really lose it, of course. It's still down in the valley. But I grew up on its shores. I used to swim in it every day. I know which beaches were sandy and which were rocky. I knew all the islands in the middle of its waters and all the caves alongside it's shore. Lake Lachrymose felt like a friend to me. But when it took poor Ike away from me I was too afraid to go near it anymore. I stopped swimming in it. I never went to the beach again. I even put away all my books about it. The only way I can bear to look at it is from the Wide Window in the Library.

I am not deceased.” He gains his feet, his talons digging into the rocky soil. Relief pricks at my eyes, and my vision wobbles. “Do not dehydrate on my account,” he lectures. “It takes more than weather to fell me.” His golden gaze drops to my knee. “Wish I could say the same for you.

The great Rocky Mountains, softly shaded in gray, were submerged in a sea of fluffy white clouds, feathery wisps enveloping the peaks like a kingdom of the air.

The scabbards of the swords he wears strapped to his back drag through palm-size hail stones to scrape the rocky ground.

When posing for a photograph, spinsters should avoid looking desperate or deprived. A serene smile will show that your circumstances are by choice and not for lack of beauty or character. -Miss Gertrude Hasslebrink, 1878

Still, it was up to her to lure her victim to the rocky shore of loss by appealing to his vanity and challenging his manly pride.She smiled at herself in the mirror. "It isn't perfect, but 'twill have to do." "Och,miss! Ye look as pretty as a princess." Mary opened the door and stood to one side. "Careful going down the stairs; yer pa pried up a board in the third step." "On the steps? Someone could get injured." "So he's hopin'." Sophia frowned. "I'll have Angus fix it. I want MacLean to hate the house, not die in it." "Men never think,miss. 'Tis a sad fact 'o life." "Tell me about it," Sophia muttered. "Wish me luck. I've heard a lot about MacLean,none of it good.

Fear of failure is a powerful thing. But what you don’t see ... is that failure allows you to grow. To get better. To learn. It is a part of life. And it’s a good thing.

But when I fail, it fires me up to get back at it and do better. And you haven’t even failed, because you haven’t tried to compete yet.

I care about you, and I want you safe. But you do realize that this is bigger than either of us, don’t you?

Trouble found him everywhere he went.

But a male voice pleaded from behind, 'Don't.' Varian appeared from the rocky path, gasping for breath, splattered with blood. Amren smirked. 'Like a hound on a scent.' 'Don't,' was all Varian said. 'Unleash me,' Amren said, ignoring him. 'Let me end this.' I began shaking my head. 'You- you will be gone. You said you won't remember us, won't be you anymore if you're freed.

I turned. It took me a moment to grasp it. What I saw. Rhys was sprawled on the rocky ground, wings draped behind him. He looked like he was sleeping. But as I breathed in- It wasn't there. The thing that rose and fell with each breath. That echoed each heartbeat. The mating bond. It wasn't there. It was gone. Because his own chest... it was not moving. And Rhys was dead.

Igneous was huge and...well, rocky. He moved around the streets like a small iceberg and, like an iceberg, there was more to him than immediately met the eye. He was known as a supplier of things. More or less any kind of things. And he was also a wall, which was the same as a fence only a lot harder and tougher to beat. Igneous never unnecessary questions, because he couldn't think of any.

Their gazes locked,he said,"I made a mistake." "Confusing your wife with a goat?" What was that he had thought about the difficulty of having a wife who was a truthsayer? He took a breath,let it out slowly, and sent with it a prayer. "There was a time-a brief time-when I considered you might be guilty." Truth. Rycca smiled. She freed her hands, cupped them to his face,and rose on her toes to touch her mouth to his. "What is that for?" he asked, caught between relief and bewilderment. Likely she would always keep him so off balance and likely he would always be glad of it for truly fortune smiled upon him. A great knot seemed to be untangling in his chest. "For believing me." "I only briefly didn't," he repeated. "No,I mean for believing I am a truthsayer." "And you know that because-" She laughed and took his hand again. "Because you are a wise and canny man, Lord Dragon. You could as easily have insisted you never even flirted with the thought that I might be guilty and thereby saved yourself what must surely have been an uneasy moment for a husband." He was slightly stung but not too much, for her ready forgiveness was as a balm over all else. "Generally speaking, I do tell the truth for its own sake." "I never thought otherwise. And I would be as truthful with you. Last night, I realized suddenly that I was not afraid. All things considered, that was rather ridiculous but it was how I felt nonetheless." The knot was definitely gone. Indeed, a great warmth seemd to suffuse him. If a woman who had every reason to fear Vikings could be tied to a punishment post by her own Viking husband and not be afraid, that could mean only one thing. "You trust me." "And you trust me." At that moment, looking down at her, his face held nothing of the mighty warrior and jarl. He looked instead like a boy handed the world. She wanted only to give it to him again and again. "I would say," Rycca murmured, "that for a rocky beginning, we are managing well enough." It was an incongruously happy note upon which to discuss a dead man.

Colorado and Wyoming are America’s highest states, averaging 6,800 feet and 6,700 feet above sea level. Utah comes in third at 6,100 feet, New Mexico, Nevada, and Idaho each break 5,000 feet, and the rest of the field is hardly worth mentioning. At 3,400 feet, Montana is only half as high as Colorado, and Alaska, despite having the highest peaks, is even further down the list at 1,900 feet. Colorado has more fourteeners than all the other U.S. states combined, and more than all of Canada too. Colorado’s lowest point (3,315 feet along the Kansas border) is higher than the highest point in twenty other states. Rivers begin here and flow away to all the points of the compass. Colorado receives no rivers from another state (unless you count the Green River’s’ brief in and out from Utah).Wyoming’s Wind River Range is the only mountain in North America that supplies water to all three master streams of the American West: Missouri, Colorado, and Columbia rivers.

And- there's another surprise.' He pointed with a healed hand toward the Cauldron. 'Someone fish out dear Amren before she catches cold.' Varian whirled toward us. But Mor was sprinting for the Cauldron, and her cry as she reached in- 'How?' I breathed. Azriel and Varian were there, helping Mor heave a waterlogged form out of the dark water. Her chest rose and fell, her features the same, but... 'She was there,' Rhys said. 'When the Cauldron was sealing. Going... wherever we go.' Amren sputtered water, vomiting onto the rocky ground. Mor thumped her back, coaxing her through it. 'So I reached out a hand,' Rhys went on quietly. 'To see if she might want to come back.' And as Amren opened her eyes, as Varian let out a choked sound of relief and joy- I knew- what she had given up to come back. High Fae- and just that. For her silver eyes were solid. Unmoving. No smoke, no burning mist in them. A normal life, no trace of her powers to be seen. And as Amren smiled at me... I wondered if that had been her last gift. If it all... if it all had been a gift.

I'm sorry.' It was those two words that shattered me. Shattered me in a way I didn't know I could still be broken, a rending of every tether and leash. Stay with the High Lord. The Suriel's last warning. Stay... and live to see everything righted. A lie. A lie, as Rhys had lied to me. Stay with the High Lord. Stay. For there... the torn scraps of the mating bond. Floating on a phantom wind inside me. I grasped at them- tugged at them, as if he'd answer. Stay. Stay, stay, stay. I clung to those scraps and remnants, clawing at the voice that lurked beyond. Stay. I looked up at Tarquin, lip curling back from my teeth. Looked at Helion. And Thesan. And Beon and Kallias, Viviane weeping at his side. And I snarkled, 'Bring him back.' Blank faces. I screamed at them, 'BRING HIM BACK.' Nothing. 'You did it for me,' I said, breathing hard. 'Now do it for him.' 'You were human,' Helion said carefully. 'It is not the same-' 'I don't care. Do it.' When they didn't move, I rallied the dregs of my power, readying to rip into their minds and force them, not caring what rules or laws it broke. I wouldn't care, only if- Tarquin stepped forward. He slowly extended his hand toward me. 'For what he gave,' Tarquin said quietly. 'Today and for many years before.' And as the seed of light appeared in his palm... I began crying again. Watched it drop onto Rhys's bare throat and vanish onto the skin beneath, an echo of light flaring once. Helion stepped forward. That kernel of light in his hand flickered as it fell onto Rhys's skin. Then Kallias. And Thesan. Until only Beron stood there. Mor drew her sword and laid it on his throat. He jerked, having not seen her move. 'I do not mind making one more kill today,' she said. Beron gave her a withering glare, but shoved off the sword and strode forward. He practically chucked that fleck of light onto Rhys. I didn't care about that, either. I didn't know the spell, the power it came from. But I was High Lady. I held out my palm. Willing the spark of life to appear. Nothing happened. I took a steadying breath, remembering how it had looked. 'Tell me how,' I growled to no one. Thesan coughed and stepped forward. Explaining the core of power and on and on and I didn't care, but I listened, until- There. Small as a sunflower seed, it appeared in my palm. A bit of me- my life. I laid it gently on Rhys's blood-crusted throat. And I realised, just as he appeared, what was missing. Tamlin stood there, summoned by either the death of a fellow High Lord or one of the others around me. He was splattered in mud and gore, his new bandolier of knives mostly empty. He studied Rhys, lifeless before me. Studied all of us- the palms still out. There was no kindness on his face. No mercy. 'Please,' was all I said to him. Then Tamlin glanced between us- me and my mate. His face did not change. 'Please,' I wept. 'I will- I will give you anything-' Something shifted in his eyes at that. But not kindness. No emotion at all. I laid my head on Rhysand's chest, listening for any kind of heartbeat through that armour. 'Anything,' I breathed to no one in particular. 'Anything.' Steps scuffed on the rocky ground. I braced myself for another set of hands trying to pull me away, and dug my fingers in harder. The steps remained behind me for long enough that I looked. Tamlin stood there. Staring down at me. Those green eyes swimming with some emotion I couldn't place. 'Be happy, Feyre,' he said quietly. And dropped that final kernel of light onto Rhysand.

Global researcher and thought leader Marcus Buckingham said, “Childhood either enables you or stunts you; it doesn’t create you.”3 Your childhood may have given you a rocky start, but it doesn’t make or break you.

We get to honor what we’re feeling,” I added. “Yes, we’re strong, and truly we kick ass like nobody’s business, and put a good face on it, and hold it together for our kids and our husbands or whatever. But sometimes, every once in a while, we get to just be women with emotions sloshing through us like rocky seas. We get to be compassionate with ourselves and not hold ourselves to impossible standards.

None were permitted on its barren, rocky slopes—save for the Illyrians, and only once a year at that. During the Blood Rite.

Travel Bucket List 1. Have a torrid affair with a foreigner. Country: TBD. 2. Stay for a night in Le Grotte della Civita. Matera, Italy. 3. Go scuba diving in the Great Barrier Reef. Queensland, Australia. 4. Watch a burlesque show. Paris, France. 5. Toss a coin and make an epic wish at the Trevi Fountain. Rome, Italy. 6. Get a selfie with a guard at Buckingham Palace. London, England. 7. Go horseback riding in the mountains. Banff, Alberta, Canada. 8. Spend a day in the Grand Bazaar. Istanbul, Turkey. 9. Kiss the Blarney Stone. Cork, Ireland. 10. Tour vineyards on a bicycle. Bordeaux, France. 11. Sleep on a beach. Phuket, Thailand. 12. Take a picture of a Laundromat. Country: All. 13. Stare into Medusa’s eyes in the Basilica Cistern. Istanbul, Turkey. 14. Do NOT get eaten by a lion. The Serengeti, Tanzania. 15. Take a train through the Canadian Rockies. British Columbia, Canada. 16. Dress like a Bond Girl and play a round of poker at a casino. Montreal, Quebec, Canada. 17. Make a wish on a floating lantern. Thailand. 18. Cuddle a koala at Currumbin Wildlife Sanctuary. Queensland, Australia. 19. Float through the grottos. Capri, Italy. 20. Pose with a stranger in front of the Eiffel Tower. Paris, France. 21. Buy Alex a bracelet. Country: All. 22. Pick sprigs of lavender from a lavender field. Provence, France. 23. Have afternoon tea in the real Downton Abbey. Newberry, England. 24. Spend a day on a nude beach. Athens, Greece. 25. Go to the opera. Prague, Czech Republic. 26. Skinny dip in the Rhine River. Cologne, Germany. 27. Take a selfie with sheep. Cotswolds, England. 28. Take a selfie in the Bone Church. Sedlec, Czech Republic. 29. Have a pint of beer in Dublin’s oldest bar. Dublin, Ireland. 30. Take a picture from the tallest building. Country: All. 31. Climb Mount Fuji. Japan. 32. Listen to an Irish storyteller. Ireland. 33. Hike through the Bohemian Paradise. Czech Republic. 34. Take a selfie with the snow monkeys. Yamanouchi, Japan. 35. Find the penis. Pompeii, Italy. 36. Walk through the war tunnels. Ho Chi Minh, Vietnam. 37. Sail around Ha long Bay on a junk boat. Vietnam. 38. Stay overnight in a trulli. Alberobello, Italy. 39. Take a Tai Chi lesson at Hoan Kiem Lake. Hanoi, Vietnam. 40. Zip line over Eagle Canyon. Thunderbay, Ontario, Canada.

She wasn't normally given to talking over much, but something about this man made her want to step forward and poke his chest. Move into his space and push until she cracked the grumpy facade he wore like porcupine quills.

But that was still the problem. When you loved someone, eventually that person would be wrenched away from you. Either now or when you were both gray and wrinkled - or any moment in between.

Sometimes it seemed Faith saw the parts of him he did his best to hide. But the biggest wonder was that his weaknesses didn't push her away. Instead, she pressed in harder.

have to be as fast as I can and shoot something to take back before I freeze to death. I had hoped not to have to withstand another winter up here in the Wind River Mountains of the Rockies but circumstances had decreed otherwise. This year though I hope to get away to somewhere lower and hopefully warmer. I’ve been trapping up here now for too long although it’s been better since I met Chipeta. Before that it was lonely on my own but change will have to come once the warm weather returns and we can figure out what to do next.

Also by John Legg Blood Trail Series Blood Trail: The Complete Series The Buckskin Series Buckskins And Blood (#1) Buckskin Vengeance (#2) Rocky Mountain Lawmen Series Sheriff's Blood (#1) Blood In The Snow (#2) Shoshoni Vengeance (#3)

This past year, Bram started dating my sister after apparently pursuing her for many years and when I say many, I mean ten. He was pining after her for ten long years and he finally made his move. It was a rocky start, and when I found out . . . boy, did I have words about it. I looked my sister, Julia, straight in the eyes and I told her not to fuck anything up with Bram because he’s the best man I know, and I wouldn’t stand for her breaking his heart.

I remembered my college days when I was an English and History double major just like Rocky. One semester, I’d had to buy sixty-seven books. Sixty-seven. I loved books, but that was ridiculous.

drought specialists, and while humid conditions prevailed, they had been confined to small patches of ground that had somehow been deprived of abundant rainfall. Now, not only were the tropical rains failing because of a global drying trend, but the North American plains were under a special disadvantage. With the Rockies in place, storms that rolled in from the Pacific tended to drop their precipitation as they swept up the western slopes. By the time they reached the plains, they were pretty much wrung out. But grasses don’t require much moisture, and this characteristic gave them a competitive edge. Over the next several million years (between about 24 million and 3 million years ago), grasses gradually became the dominant plants across the Great Plains.

Long, hard, and rocky is the road we walk in old age,

I never figured you for starting all this trouble. Tragic figure, that’s you. Following Rocky around with your little pink tongue hanging out, like a bitch in heat. It was a good role, Gaby, one you could a life around. I ain’t gonna forgive you for writing your own lines.

If the embryonic Titanide got all things practical and much historical from the foremother, it got everything else from the hindmother. Rocky wondered if he wasn’t prejudiced-being hindpregnant himself-but it seemed to him this was the most important part.

You will love life, my child. Most of the time.

She loves spectacle. It’s what attracted her to movies in the first place. It’s the basic reason she started the war, god help us all. Give her a good one, Rocky, and I’ll take care of the rest.

What did it look like?” “My watch? It was silver. Not expensive or anything. Just a regular watch.” “Shiny?” “I guess.” “Raccoons.” Determined not to say anything stupid for at least the next ten minutes, she considered his single-word statement. Raccoons? Okay. He probably hadn’t started a word-association game, so what did he mean? Going with the safest response, she cautiously repeated, “Raccoons?” “They like shiny things. Take off with them whenever they can.” “You’re saying a raccoon stole my watch?” “Probably.” She really wanted to point out that they couldn’t possibly tell time, but knew instinctively that was a bad idea. “Can I get it back?” “Sure. If you can find it.” Could she? She glanced around at the underbrush, the trees, the stream. “Is it safe for me to go exploring?” she asked. “You’re not likely to be attacked by raccoons, but you’ll probably get lost, fall down a ravine, break your leg and starve to death. But if the watch is that important to you, have at it.” She felt herself deflating. “You don’t like me much, do you?” she asked sadly. She half expected Zane to stalk away, but instead he exhaled and shook his head. “Sorry.” She blinked. “What?” “I said I’m sorry.” Had the earth stopped turning, or had the taciturn hunky cowboy standing in front of her just apologized? “I--you--” She paused for breath. “That’s okay. I guess it was a stupid question.” “No. It was a reasonable question under the circumstances.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I get a little sarcastic sometimes.” “Let’s call it a dry sense of humor.” He half nodded in acknowledgement. “You’ll never find them, and even if you did, your watch would probably be all broken up and rusty from them dunking it in the water. Don’t leave out anything they’ll take. Shiny jewelry, another watch.” “I don’t have another watch. Not with me.” “You need to know the time?” “Just when the meals are.” “Cookie rings a bell.” “Really? Just like in the movies?” “Yeah.” One corner of his mouth turned up as he spoke. It wasn’t exactly a smile, but it was close enough to get her breathing up to Mach 3. “Come on,” he said. “It’s nearly time for lunch.” He started back toward the camp. Phoebe followed him happily. “You think the raccoons could ever learn to tell time?” she asked. He glanced at her. “You’re kidding, right?” “Maybe I have a dry sense of humor, too.” “City girl.” He was probably insulting her, but the way he said the word made her feel almost tall and, if not blonde, then certainly highlighted. “I think Rocky likes me,” she confided. “I’m sure he does.

Where’s the pizza?” Something warm and furry came and leaned against my right leg. I reached down to pet Rocky, a black lab who was going gray around his eyes and muzzle. “Rocky wants to know where the pizza is, too.” “He’s the reason the food is in the kitchen. Last time we kept it out here on the picnic table, he helped himself to half of a large bacon pepperoni pizza and then he threw up in my mom’s closet. She was cleaning dog barf out of her shoes for days.” I squatted down and rubbed Rocky’s ears. “I bet you were framed, huh, buddy?” He leaned into the ear rub and sighed. “I bet it was the cat, wasn’t it?” He sighed again like he was agreeing with me. “Nice try, but there isn’t that much barf in a cat,” Trevor said.

Could you imagine the hassles if they all use different words?” “I’d rather not, thanks.” “Aye, well, a bit of a rocky start, but we’re here. And I’m dying for a bath. Damn it’s hot.” “I’m just looking forward to sleeping in a bed that doesn’t rock.” I knew, the moment those words came out of my mouth, that I shouldn’t have said them, for Karish looked at me with the most evil glint in his eyes. “I’ll have to see what I can do to change that, won’t I?” Just what I needed. Karish degenerating into using innuendo on me. I thought he’d lost that habit.

the world just coasted on its axis, as if nobody out there gave a damn that she was on rocky ground. It was probably the way it was supposed to be. You had to deal with your own personal chaos in your own way.

parked in the dimly lit back. He parked close and got out as Jasper and Rocky got

the road of this new life is very rocky and bumpy. We seem to go two steps forward, six back, eight forward, one back . . . It’s wearing, and wearying. But we are going somewhere. This new life, now humble and lowly, will burst forth into dazzling splendor one day. We who are in Christ are headed for a definite and assured destination. When Christ returns, when He resurrects dead believers and transforms living believers (1 Thess. 4:16–17), then we will fully bear His image, with no distortions or cracks or scars (1 Cor. 15:49). We will see Him, and that sight will utterly and finally transform us to His likeness (1 John 3:2). That glorious goal is set and assured the moment we are born again.

Sometimes when Rose was reading, she would catch a whiff of the musty smell of her book. She put her nose down in the fold and inhaled deeply so that wonderful smell, the smell of adventure in faraway lands, would fill her up. She rubbed her hand across the pages to feel the velvety surface of the paper. When she closed her eyes, her fingertips could even feel the words that were printed there, each letter raised just a little, almost like the special language that her blind aunt Mary could read. To Rose, a book was as real and alive as if it breathed and walked and spoke.

You pakeha,” she murmured, “all your streets must be straight and even. You tear them from the earth without hearing its groans. And yet the winding, rocky ways are the shorter ones if you take them in peace.

She loved all the creatures of the farm. Each one, even a hen, was like a person to her, even more real than many of the real people she knew. Some were playful or bold, and some were shy. Some were gentle, and some were wicked. Some were smart, like Fido, and some were foolish, like the hens.

Rose carefully and gently pushed the growing pile of rosy-golden apples around each time another crate was dumped into the wagon. She waded carefully through the apples without lifting her feet, so she wouldn't step on a single one. Soon the whole wagon box was a sea of red and yellow, full almost to the top. She wanted to dive right in, it looked so inviting. She picked two of the reddest ones she could find, gave one to Mama, and they each took a bite. "Delicious," said Mama through a mouthful, the juice running down her chin. "If there were no other food in the world, I think I could live on apples alone." Hers was the sweetest apple Rose could ever remember eating.

I shut the car door as quietly as possible and quickly maneuvered to the front porch, climbing the steps two at a time, and rushing to the door. I knocked. Loudly. Several times. And then I waited. My heart was lodged in my throat so I tried to swallow past it. I couldn’t show weakness. I needed to be tough. I can be tough. I nodded, shifting from one foot to the other. I can be real tough. You can’t be a sissy and make fifty loaves of bread in a day. That’s a lot of kneading. I’m tough as nails. I’m basically the Rocky Balboa of bakers. I’m unstoppable! Aint nobody gunna— The door swung open. I jumped back a half step. My voice failed me.

Cragg said, 'Come on, Rocky. I'm not getting

Jenna Zulauf loves spending her free time both indoors working out and outdoors experiencing all that Colorado has to offer. Her favorite past time is hiking with her 3 German Shepherds. Jenna Zulauf has summited 14ers with her dogs right beside her, exploring nature's peace, calm and serenity in the beautiful Rocky Mountains.

No. My daughter walks with you. Choose your way carefully, yes? The trail ahead of you will be steep at times. At others, it may be rocky and narrow. You must be certain you go along a path that leaves room for her to journey beside you.

Despite her mistakes, God still cared, and she hadn't been forgotten or discarded because of them.

GET DOWN!” Aston shouts. “INCOMING ON YOUR LEFT!” I dive to the dirt, covering my head. Five seconds pass. Then ten. “ANY TIME NOW!” Vane calls, lifting his head to scan the field. The wind spike blows past him, striking the rocky ground in a shower of dust. “DID YOU SERIOUSLY JUST MISS?” Vane asks. “I TOLD YOU TO GET DOWN!” Aston shouts. “YOU’RE LUCKY I DIDN’T HIT YOUR GIANT SQUARE HEAD!” “I have a square head?” Vane asks.

Alice!

ready by eight

On our unnamed alien hero’s home world, Vonnadoria, mathematics has transformed his people, giving them the ability to create a utopian society where knowledge is limitless and immortality attainable. But when Cambridge professor Andrew Martin cracks the Riemann hypothesis, opening a door to the same technology that the alien’s planet possesses, the narrator is sent to Earth to erase all evidence of the solution and kill anyone who had seen the proof. He struggles to pass undetected long enough to gain access to Martin’s research. But as he takes up the role of Professor Martin in order to blend in with the humans, he begins to see a kind of hope and redemption in the humans’ imperfections, and he questions his marching orders. Mathematics or not, he becomes increasingly convinced that Martin’s family deserves to live, forcing him to confront the possibility of forgoing everything he has ever known and become a human. TOPICS AND QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION 1. In the preface, our narrator explains his purpose and asks his people back home to set aside prejudice in the name of understanding. How is this plea to his fictional reader also directed at us, the actual readers? What prejudices must we set aside to understand our alien hero? 2. Our hero’s entrance into human life is . . . rocky, at best. How did his initial impressions of human life—noses, clothes, rain, and Cosmopolitan—shape the rest of his journey? Which of his first disconcerting realizations did you find the most surprising? 3. Starting with the possibility that the purpose of humanity is to “pursue the enlightenment of orgasm,” our hero is constantly seeking the solution to the meaning of human life. What does he

When my dad died, I kind of felt the same way. We had a pretty rocky relationship, to be honest. And when he died, it was like I was grieving for the end of something that didn’t exist, or grieving for the end of the chance that it might exist at some point, rather than for a person. You know?

All Hadza women dig, but grandmothers dig more than mothers in part because they don’t have to nurse or spend as much time taking care of little ones. According to measurements by Kristen Hawkes and colleagues, a typical Hadza mother forages about four hours a day, but grandmothers forage on average five to six hours a day.18 On some days they dig less and spend more time collecting berries, but overall they work longer hours than mothers do. And just as grandmothers spend about seven hours every day foraging and preparing food, grandfathers continue to hunt and to collect honey and baobab fruits, traveling just as far on most days as younger men do. According to the anthropologist Frank Marlowe, “Old men are the most likely to fall out of tall baobab trees to their deaths, since they continue to try to collect honey into old age.”19 How many elderly Americans dig several hours a day, let alone climb trees and hunt animals on foot? We can, however, compare how much Americans and Hadza walk. A study of thousands found that the average twenty-first-century woman in the United States aged eighteen to forty walks 5,756 steps a day (about two to three miles), but this number declines precipitously with age, and by the time they are in their seventies, American women take roughly half as many steps. While Americans are half as active in their seventies as in their forties, Hadza women walk twice as much per day as Americans, with only modest declines as they age.20 In addition, heart rate monitors showed that elderly Hadza women actually spent more of their day engaged in moderate to vigorous activity than younger women who were still having children.21 Imagine if elderly American women had to walk five miles a day to shop for their children and grandchildren, and instead of pulling items off the shelves, they had to dig for several hours in hard, rocky soil for boxes of cereal, frozen peas, and Fruit Roll-Ups. Not surprisingly, hard work keeps elderly hunter-gatherers fit. One of the most reliable measures of age-related fitness is walking speed—a measure that correlates strongly with life expectancy.22 The average American woman under fifty walks about three feet per second (0.92 meter per second) but slows down considerably to two feet per second (0.67 meter per second) by her sixties.23 Thanks to an active lifestyle without retirement, there is no significant age-related decline in walking speed among Hadza women, whose average pace remains a brisk 3.6 feet per second (1.1 meters per second) well into their seventies.24 Having struggled to keep up with elderly Hadza grandmas, I can attest they maintain a steady clip even when it is blisteringly hot. Older Hadza men also walk briskly.

Love is sunshine to the rose. It can’t stop shinin’ just because the bud begins to bloom.

Someone was in the house.

Yeah, Jules told me this is another ‘friend from school,’” Theo said. Hugh gave a bark of laughter. “She’s not even trying anymore.” “She doesn’t have to,” Theo admitted, and Otto could tell he was trying not to smile. “She knows that I know she’s never met this woman before in her life. Saying that this new…houseguest is an old friend is Jules’s way of asking me not to investigate her.” “I wouldn’t care, except that someone’s always trying to blow up these women,” Hugh said with a dramatic sigh.

Every time someone new shows up in town, you grill that person until she wants to run away and never come back.” Crossing her arms, she leaned against the counter. “It’s the worst welcome wagon I’ve ever seen, and you’re not doing that to Sarah.

Are they at it again?” Grace said as she walked in from the hallway. “Yes.” Ty, one of the twins, covered his eyes. “You guys shouldn’t do this in front of me and Tio. We’re still children.” “You two kiss so often, I’m surprised your lips haven’t permanently fused together,” Grace said as Hugh grabbed her hand, reeling her toward him and pulling her into his lap. “I’d like my lips to become permanently fused to yours.” Hugh teasingly nuzzled Grace’s neck, making her laugh.

Yeah?” Hugh sounded hopeful that Grace was going to spill some details, but Otto had a feeling he was about to be disappointed. “Yeah. Too bad you’re never going to meet her.” Hugh, who’d sat forward in anticipation, flopped against the back of his chair. “What? Why? Do I embarrass you? Are you embarrassed for me to meet your friends?” As she filled her glass from the tap, Grace gave a small shrug, shooting Hugh a sideways look. “Of course you do, and of course I am, but that’s not why you’re not meeting Sarah. You guys will pick on her.” “Will not.” “Will too.” “Will not.” Otto cleared his throat, knowing from experience that Hugh and Grace could go on like that for hours.

Otto stopped worrying about not saying something and started worrying that he would say something mortally embarrassing that would make her hate him forever. The seconds ticked by, the faint chatter coming from the kitchen and the low hum of the wind outside pressing against the house the only sounds. Neither looked away. “Wow. This is awkward,” Grace said. “Otto, when I said you weren’t allowed to interrogate her, I didn’t mean to ban all polite conversation. You can, you know, tell her it’s nice to meet her or make some comment about the weather.” She paused, and silence dropped over them again.

There will be no digging,” Jules stated as she pulled a chair from a nearby table and plopped down next to Theo. “Hey, sweetness. I’m on break so you can kiss me now.” Theo gave her a smile and obliged.

Otto likes Sarah.” Mouth open, Otto stared at Theo. He’d expected Hugh to spill the beans, but Theo? “What the hell?” Looking completely unrepentant, Theo laid an arm over the back of Jules’s chair and picked up his coffee mug with his free hand. “I would’ve just told her later.” “That’s true,” Jules said, leaning forward with the same gossip-loving expression as Hugh.

They stared at each other, frozen, until Hugh clearing his throat made both of them jump. “Any day, lovebirds,” he called. “Grace and a Tattered Hearts marathon are waiting for me at home. If I’m not back soon, I know she’s going to start without me. She’s rude like that.

This is my home.' Grace’s tone had softened a little, though. 'Jules, Sarah, and the kids were here. I needed to find out what was happening, to help if I could.

Curling her fingers around Theo’s wrists, Jules leaned in to kiss him lightly. “I love you.” “Okay, okay, okay.” Hugh broke into the tender moment. 'You both love each other and complete each other and would climb every mountain for each other. We get it. Enough with the kissy-kissy. Tell us what happened.

Otto closed the door behind them, and then turned back to see Theo eyeing him curiously. “Thanks. I have…well, a question.” “Okay. Ask.” Theo half sat on the table behind him, crossing his arms over his chest. Viggy lay down next to him, his head resting on his front paws. Theo’s smirk looked a little too Hugh-ish for Otto’s liking. There was a reason he’d gone to Theo with this and not Hugh. 'Well?

She’s staying at my place so that she’ll be safe from Jovanovic. What if she thinks…? How do I let her know that she doesn’t have to…?" He trailed off again with a grunt of frustration. “You don’t want her to think that she has to put out as payment for staying with you,” Theo said baldly, and Otto winced. It sounded as bad out loud as it had in his head. “Yes.” “Just tell her.” Otto shifted uncomfortably. “I tried. It doesn’t come out right.” “You don’t want me to—” “No!” Otto raised his hands in horror, cutting Theo off in mid-sentence. "No. I’ll do it. I’ll talk to her.

It was different from before, but she still shifted a little, unsure if she liked the attention or not. It was a lot to get used to. “I’ll make them for you,” he said. “You’ll like my pancakes.” “I’m sure I will.” The words were out, thick with innuendo, before she could think twice. Hugh was grinning ear to ear, and Grace tossed a balled-up napkin at him. “See? That’s how normal people flirt,” she said. “There’s no yelling involved.” Hugh caught the napkin. “If I were normal, you wouldn’t love me so much.” Eyeing him for a long moment, Grace finally shrugged. “Not a lie.

Jules popped up next to him to pour a cup of coffee and kiss him on the cheek. “The puppies are fine with Hugh. We trust him to babysit the kids. The health inspector might close the viner down, but the puppies will be okay.” “I thought you weren’t going to let me babysit the kids anymore after the cat incident,” Hugh said. “That’s Otto,” Jules corrected before rushing off to serve another table. “Hey,” Otto said mildly. “I didn’t find the cat. If I hadn’t gotten it down, Dee would’ve climbed up herself.” Theo shrugged slightly as he took a drink of his coffee. “She’s just kidding. You’re still our second pick after Grace.” “What about me?” Hugh complained. After giving Hugh a flat look, Theo turned back to Otto. “Like I said, you’re still our second pick.

Giving the people around them a sweeping look, Grace obviously understood the situation. “I’m going to the bathroom.” She stood up. “Sarah? You coming?” Sarah popped out of her seat, falling in next to Grace, but Otto caught her hand, halting her. “You’ll have to go one at a time,” he told her. “There aren’t any stalls. It’s just a single bathroom.” Hugh started to laugh. “They’re not going to the bathroom to actually use it,” he said. His forehead furrowing in the way it did when he didn’t understand something, Otto looked at Hugh and then back at Sarah. “They’re going to the bathroom so they can have some privacy when they talk about us.” Glancing at Sarah, Hugh amended his words. “You, buddy. They’re going to the bathroom to talk about you.

Grace’s eyes got huge even as her voice lowered to a whisper. “Are you guys having sex?” “Not yet.” “Not yet?” Grace’s smile grew until it curved her mouth up wickedly. “So why are you blushing? Have you kissed?” “Yes.” Her face got even hotter, but she couldn’t stop grinning. “Is Otto a good kisser?” “Really, really good.” Her smile matched Grace’s. “Amazing. The best. I don’t think there are words good enough to explain just how incredible he is.” Grace gave a laughing squeal and caught Sarah in a hug. “Yay! Kisses! Good kisses!” Laughing, Sarah hugged her back. Having a friend felt almost as nice as Otto’s kisses. They turned in a circle, squeezing each other and laughing, until they finally quieted enough to talk again.

But if I’d left—” “You shouldn’t have to leave.” He cut her off. “We’ll deal with this, with these people. Together. All of us. You have backup here. If you were running from strange town to strange town, you’d be alone.” The thought of that terrified Sarah, but she didn’t want to be selfish. She didn’t have the right to bring harm and possible death to these good people.

He smiled his usual slow smile, although it had a wicked edge she’d never seen before. Sarah was pretty sure she loved it. “You’re blushing.” “Oh.” She smiled back, and his eyes blazed with hunger. “I was thinking naughty thoughts.” Her heels bumped the first step, and she turned around to climb up the stairs. Crowding close behind her, so close that it felt like he surrounded her, Otto asked, “You going to share them?

Grady had a habit of disappearing for an hour or so in the afternoons. Grace’s theory was that he was watching Tattered Hearts.

Although still quiet, Hugh sounded like he was making an effort to sound casual. “What about you? Did you run into any trouble?” “Yes. You took the shovel out of my squad car,” Otto grumbled, keeping his voice low. “What? The town is being invaded, and that’s what you’re worried about?” Hugh led the way to a tiny shack that looked like an old-school outhouse. It even had a crescent moon carved into the door. As Hugh held the door open, Otto gave him a sideways look. Hugh snickered. “Go on in. Trust me.” “Trust you like I trusted you to put the shovel back?” “Why are you still going on about the shovel?

Theo’s been teaching me to shoot.” Jules allowed her hoodie and coat to drop back into place, covering the gun. “He said I’m a natural.” “She’s a good shot,” Theo said without looking away from the display. He picked up several folding knives and handed them out. Even though Otto already had his, he accepted another. He had a feeling that it would be a good time to carry a spare. Unfolding her knife, Grace examined it before closing it again and slipping it into her pocket. “I’m not. I’m terrible. Hugh, tell Otto how terrible I am at shooting.” There was an underlying tension to her voice, to all their voices, that told Otto they were eaten up with worry for Sarah. Grace’s attempt at joking sounded forced, and he knew she was trying to distract them from the dangers they were all facing. “She’s bad,” Hugh agreed. “I’m not getting better, either,” Grace admitted. “Every time we go to the range, I get fewer and fewer holes in the target. It’s a little annoying, especially with Straight-Shooter McGee over there.” She jerked her thumb at Jules, who gave a tight smile.

She fished out a folding knife and flashlight before holding the pack out toward Grace, careful not to jostle the cat. “Can you take Bob down?” “Bob?” “Otto’s cat.” “Oh.” Grace gave a small choke of a laugh as she pulled off her crossbow before easing her arms through the straps. “I thought you’d named your favorite pack or something.

The crowd closed around Aaron. “Hurry!” Sarah said, bouncing in the seat with impatience as they headed back toward the action. “We’re missing it!” “Bloodthirsty,” Otto called back to her, but from the tiny bit of his profile that she could see, it was obvious that he was grinning.