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.

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

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 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.

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 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.

Dark ancillary thoughts emerged: could either of them live without the sustaining excitement of this work, the knife-edge bustle of the street, the adrenaline high of stealing secrets from an implacable foe? What would their retired life be like? Would they look at the snowy Rockies from the porch of a log cabin? Or eat breakfast on a white balcony overlooking Biscayne Bay? Or throw another log on the fire in a cozy New England farmhouse? A conjugal dream or a constricting nightmare? Could either of them survive retirement? Gable always said that spooks dried up and died when they left the Game. Most Russian defectors went around the bend away from the Rodina; they missed the Motherland, the black earth, and the pine forests. Could he do that to her, to himself? Jesus, maybe he had scared himself straight, maybe she’d see the light too. Maybe they would move to the next chaste and professional level of superasset and sagacious handler, coolly taking care of business against Vladimir Putin and his predatory kleptocracy. Maybe.

Nah-uh! Bad one!” everybody moaned. “No way,” said Frank. The note shot out of his mouth and landed smack-dab in the middle of Rocky’s desk. Slobber City! “Gross!” yelled Rocky. Mr. Todd passed out the quizzes. Mr. Todd cleared his throat. “Question number one: How many times did I wear a purple tie to school this year?” Everybody shouted answers. “Ten!” “Twenty-seven!” “One hundred!” “Four!” “Never!” called Jessica Finch. “Never is correct!” said Mr. Todd. “Number two: How long did it take our class to go around the world?” “Eight days!” said Frank. “Eight and a half days,” said Judy. “Too easy. Let’s skip ahead. Here’s one. This is big. Really big. We’re talking MUCHO GRANDE!” “Tell us!” everybody shouted. “Can anyone — that means YOU, Class 3T — guess what I, your teacher, Mr. Todd, will be doing THIS SUMMER?” “Working at the Pickle Barrel Deli?” asked Hunter. “I saw you there.” “That was last summer,” said Mr. Todd. “But this summer, if you find me, you win a prize.” “We need a clue,” said Judy. “Give us a clue.” “Clue! Clue! Clue! Clue! Clue!” yelled the class. “Okay, okay. Let me think. The clue is . . . COLD.” Mr. Todd hugged himself, pretending to shiver. “Brrr.” Jackson waved his hand. “Refrigerator salesperson!” “Snow-remover guy!” said Jordan. “Polar-bear tamer!” said Anya.

By late January 2014, Tesla had completed the construction of a cross-country Supercharger corridor that would allow Model S drivers to get from Los Angeles to New York without having to spend a penny on energy. The electric highway took a northern route through Colorado, Wyoming, South Dakota, Minnesota, and Illinois, before approaching New York from Delaware. The path it cut was similar to a trip taken by Musk and his brother, Kimbal, in a beat-up 1970s BMW 320i in 1994. Within days of the route’s completion, Tesla staged a cross-country rally to show that the Model S could easily handle long-distance driving, even in the dead of winter. Two hot-pepper-red Model S’s, driven by members of the Supercharging team, left Tesla’s Los Angeles–based design studio just after midnight on Thursday, January 30. Tesla planned to finish the trip at New York’s City Hall on the night of February 1, the day before Super Bowl XLVIII, which would take place at MetLife Stadium in East Rutherford, New Jersey, just across the state line. Along the way, the cars would drive through some of the snowiest and most frigid places in the country, in one of the coldest weeks of the year. The trip took a little longer than expected. The rally encountered a wild snowstorm in the Rocky Mountains that temporarily closed the road over Vail Pass and then provided an icy entrance to Wyoming. Somewhere in South Dakota, one of the rally’s diesel support vans broke down, forcing its occupants to catch a flight from Sioux Falls to rejoin the rest of the crew in Chicago. And in Ohio, the cars powered through torrential rains as the fatigued crew pressed on for the final stretch. It was 7:30 A.M. on Sunday, February 2, when the Teslas rolled up to New York’s City Hall on a bright, mild morning. The 3,427-mile journey had taken 76 hours and 5 minutes—just over three days. The cars had spent a total of 15 hours and 57 seconds charging along the way,

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

Maybe she had been wrong about coming to him for help. It wouldn't be her first mistake.

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.

Life has a way of coming up on us fast until we look back and realize that we failed to treasure every moment.

Alex had been in that dream with her, and he was going to die, was prepared to die, to save her.

Pulse pounding in her ears, she couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak.

…he and Mackenzie had to walk the path through the valley that held more than shadows of death.

Sometimes the door God opened for a person to walk through had more to do with the greater good.

I’ll come for you when you least expect it.

I’m with you until the end, no matter what.

Makenzie’s words had chiseled through his armor and eaten away at his heart.

…the chaos of the world seemed bent on keeping them apart.

Life went on, even after mistakes left you scraping yourself off the ground.” “He was the exact right person at the exact wrong time.” “…why had their paths crossed twice—and this second time in such a spectacular way?” “The thing that estranged me from my family is the very thing that could save what’s left of them now.” “He glanced at MacKenzie. In her case, he was pretty sure someone had already stirred up the past, and he and MacKenzie had to walk the path through the valley that held more than shadows of death.” “Guilt and shame from her past invaded her thoughts and heart.” “Why couldn’t they have met by chance again or through God’s making it all work out for them? Like normal people. But really, neither of them was normal.” “And here we are…breaking all the rules to find a dangerous rule-breaker.” “These actions he’d taken with MacKenzie could break him or make him, but of course, it wasn’t about him. Sometimes the door God opened for a person to walk through had more to do with the greater good.

AMERICANS -- U.S. NAVY, ABOARD MINESWEEPER USS PELICAN (AM 49), MANILA BAY Alton C. Ingram, Lieutenant. “Todd,” Commanding Officer Frederick J. Holloway, Lt. (jg), Operations Officer. Oliver P. Toliver, III, Lt. (jg) “Ollie,” Gunnery Officer. Bartholomew, Leonard (n), Chief Machinists Mate, “Rocky,” Chief Engineer. Farwell, Luther A., Quartermaster Second Class, Top helmsman. Hampton, Joshua P., Electronics Technician 1st Class, Crew Whittaker, Peter L., Engineman 3rd Class, Crew Forester, Kevin T. Quartermaster 3rd Class, Crew Forester, Brian I., Quartermaster Striker, Crew Yardly, Ronald R., Pharmacist's Mate Second Class “Bones,” Crew. Sunderland, Kermit G. Gunner's Mate 1st Class, Crew. AMERICANS

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.

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.

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

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.