Rogue Agent Quotes

Relax, oh paranoid one. I doubt there'll be Talon agents hiding in the potted plants.

Turns out that a real-estate agent keeps her own home on the market an average of ten days longer and sells it for an extra 3-plus percent, or $10,000 on a $300,000 house.

Well, you know what Stalin said: it’s not who votes that counts. It’s who counts the votes.

But as incentives go, commissions are tricky. First of all, a 6 percent real-estate commission is typically split between the seller’s agent and the buyer’s. Each agent then kicks back roughly half of her take to the agency. Which means that only 1.5 percent of the purchase price goes directly into your agent’s pocket. So on the sale of your $300,000 house, her personal take of the $18,000 commission is $4,500. Still not bad, you say. But what if the house was actually worth more than $300,000? What if, with a little more effort and patience and a few more newspaper ads, she could have sold it for $310,000? After the commission, that puts an additional $9,400 in your pocket. But the agent’s additional share—her personal 1.5 percent of the extra $10,000—is a mere $150. If you earn $9,400 while she earns only $150, maybe your incentives aren’t aligned after all.

So is that what I am to you? Just another hammer?" "Of course," said Sir Alec. "And so am I. So is everyone with a gift that can be exploited.

We can't undo what's happened. The dead are buried and we can't unbury them. All we can do is live the rest of our lives in a way that won't shame their memories. And make sure nothing like this ever happens again.

What’re you—Jane Hawk?” “Who’s Jane Hawk?” “This kick-ass rogue FBI agent in these novels my mom likes. Even if you were Jane Hawk, it won’t work the way you say. It never will.

The group of rogue Cantrip agents that kidnapped the pack in order to make you go assassinate their target had a list, didn’t they?

In Levitt’s view, economics is a science with excellent tools for gaining answers but a serious shortage of interesting questions. His particular gift is the ability to ask such questions. For instance: If drug dealers make so much money, why do they still live with their mothers? Which is more dangerous, a gun or a swimming pool? What really caused crime rates to plunge during the past decade? Do real-estate agents have their clients’ best interests at heart? Why do black parents give their children names that may hurt their career prospects?

Anyway,” the agent said abruptly. “I just . . . wanted you to know that I’m sorry for everything. I want to help you and the rest of the Order in any way I can, so if there is anything you need, you know where I am.” “Chase,” Dante said as the male turned to leave the room. “Apology accepted, man. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry too. I haven’t been fair to you either. Despite our differences, know that I respect you. The Agency lost a good one the day they cut you loose.” Chase’s smile was crooked as he acknowledged the praise with a short nod. Dante cleared his throat. “And about that offer of help . . .” “Name it.” “Tess was walking a dog when the Rogues attacked her tonight. Ugly little mutt, not good for much more than a foot-warmer, but it’s special to her. Actually, it was a gift from me, more or less. Anyway, the dog was running loose on its leash when I saw it a block or so away from Ben Sullivan’s place.” “You want me to go retrieve a wayward canine, is that where this is heading?” “Well, you did say anything, didn’t you?” “So I did.” Chase chuckled. “All right. I will.” Dante dug his keys to his Porsche out of his pocket and tossed them to the other vampire. As Chase turned to be on his way again, Dante added, “The little beast answers to the name Harvard, by the way.” “Harvard,” Chase drawled, shaking his head and throwing a smirk in Dante’s direction. “I don’t suppose that’s a coincidence.” Dante shrugged. “Good to see that Ivy League pedigree of yours comes in handy for something.” “Jesus Christ, warrior. You really were busting my ass since the minute I came on board, weren’t you?” “Hey, by all comparisons, I was kind. Do yourself a favor and don’t look too closely at Niko’s shooting target, unless you’re very secure about your manhood.” “Assholes,” Chase muttered, but there was only humor in his tone. “Sit tight, and I’ll be back in a few with your mutt. Anything else you’re gonna hit me up for now that I opened my big yap about wanting to get square with you?” “Actually, there might be something else,” Dante replied, his thoughts going sober when he considered Tess and any kind of future that might be deserving of her. “But we can talk about that when you get back, yeah?” Chase nodded, catching on to the turn in mood. “Yeah. Sure we can.

When we are children our parents tell us precisely what we must and must not do, for our understanding is circumscribed and our knowledge of the world incomplete. But when we are grown they nod and say, 'We have taught you well. Go know into the world and remember what you learned at our table.

Operating in the black market is like trying to get laid in a city you don't know. In a strange city, if you have enough money, you're bound to find something, but there might be a disease contracted, you might get rolled or arrested, and there's no telling how much it will cost. With you wife, its predictable and in a steady quantity.

If you study the words in ads for a real-estate agent’s own home, meanwhile, you see that she indeed emphasizes descriptive terms (especially “new,” “granite,” “maple,” and “move-in condition”) and avoids empty adjectives (including “wonderful,” “immaculate,” and the telltale “!”). Then she patiently waits for the best buyer to come along

Ziggy is in front of the tube, as if nothing much has been happening in his day, watching Scooby Goes Latin! (1990). Maxine after a quick visit to the bathroom to reformat, knowing better than to start in with the Q&A, comes in and sits down next to him about the time it breaks for a commercial. “Hi, Mom.” She wants to enfold him forever. Instead lets him recap the plot for her. Shaggy, somehow allowed to drive the van, has become confused and made some navigational errors, landing the adventurous quintet eventually in Medellín, Colombia, home at the time to a notorious cocaine cartel, where they stumble onto a scheme by a rogue DEA agent to gain control of the cartel by pretending to be the ghost—what else—of an assassinated drug kingpin. With the help of a pack of local street urchins, however, Scooby and his pals foil the plan.

For instance, in the eighteenth century, a brilliant young student from the University of Ingolstadt caught the eye of members of the Broederschap. His work with galvanism and chemistry was deemed to have tremendous potential, and they recruited him. He was given a thorough grounding in the core principles of the brotherhood’s techniques, but he chafed at their restrictions and eventually went rogue, disappearing to pursue his own research. Agents scoured the known world for him, but it was years before five Chimerae were dispatched to the Arctic, where he had constructed and animated a monstrous being using cadavers and lightning. Four of the five troops were killed, but the rogue doctor and his creation also died out there on the ice.

There is no fault that can’t be corrected [in natural wine] with one powder or another; no feature that can’t be engineered from a bottle, box, or bag. Wine too tannic? Fine it with Ovo-Pure (powdered egg whites), isinglass (granulate from fish bladders), gelatin (often derived from cow bones and pigskins), or if it’s a white, strip out pesky proteins that cause haziness with Puri-Bent (bentonite clay, the ingredient in kitty litter). Not tannic enough? Replace $1,000 barrels with a bag of oak chips (small wood nuggets toasted for flavor), “tank planks” (long oak staves), oak dust (what it sounds like), or a few drops of liquid oak tannin (pick between “mocha” and “vanilla”). Or simulate the texture of barrel-aged wines with powdered tannin, then double what you charge. (““Typically, the $8 to $12 bottle can be brought up to $15 to $20 per bottle because it gives you more of a barrel quality. . . . You’re dressing it up,” a sales rep explained.) Wine too thin? Build fullness in the mouth with gum arabic (an ingredient also found in frosting and watercolor paint). Too frothy? Add a few drops of antifoaming agent (food-grade silicone oil). Cut acidity with potassium carbonate (a white salt) or calcium carbonate (chalk). Crank it up again with a bag of tartaric acid (aka cream of tartar). Increase alcohol by mixing the pressed grape must with sugary grape concentrate, or just add sugar. Decrease alcohol with ConeTech’s spinning cone, or Vinovation’s reverse-osmosis machine, or water. Fake an aged Bordeaux with Lesaffre’s yeast and yeast derivative. Boost “fresh butter” and “honey” aromas by ordering the CY3079 designer yeast from a catalog, or go for “cherry-cola” with the Rhône 2226. Or just ask the “Yeast Whisperer,” a man with thick sideburns at the Lallemand stand, for the best yeast to meet your “stylistic goals.” (For a Sauvignon Blanc with citrus aromas, use the Uvaferm SVG. For pear and melon, do Lalvin Ba11. For passion fruit, add Vitilevure Elixir.) Kill off microbes with Velcorin (just be careful, because it’s toxic). And preserve the whole thing with sulfur dioxide. When it’s all over, if you still don’t like the wine, just add a few drops of Mega Purple—thick grape-juice concentrate that’s been called a “magical potion.” It can plump up a wine, make it sweeter on the finish, add richer color, cover up greenness, mask the horsey stink of Brett, and make fruit flavors pop. No one will admit to using it, but it ends up in an estimated 25 million bottles of red each year. “Virtually everyone is using it,” the president of a Monterey County winery confided to Wines and Vines magazine. “In just about every wine up to $20 a bottle anyway, but maybe not as much over that.

Socrates: So now you won't acknowledge any gods except the ones we do--Chaos, the Clouds, the Tongue--just these three? Strepsiades: Absolutely-- I'd refuse to talk to any other gods, if I ran into them--and I decline to sacrifice or pour libations to them. I'll not provide them any incense... I want to twist all legal verdicts in my favor, to evade my creditors. Chorus Leader: You'll get that, just what you desire. For what you want is nothing special. So be confident--give yourself over to our agents here. Strepsiades: I'll do that--I'll place my trust in you. Necessity is weighing me down--the horses, those thoroughbreds, my marriage--all that has worn me out. So now, this body of mine I'll give to them, with no strings attached, to do with as they like--to suffer blows, go without food and drink, live like a pig, to freeze or have my skin flayed for a pouch-- if I can just get out of all my debt and make men think of me as bold and glib, as fearless, impudent, detestable, one who cobbles lies together, makes up words, a practiced legal rogue, a statute book, a chattering fox, sly and needle sharp, a slippery fraud, a sticky rascal, foul whipping boy or twisted villain, troublemaker, or idly prattling fool. If they can make those who run into me call me these names, they can do what they want--no questions asked. If, by Demeter, they're keen, they can convert me into sausages and serve me up to men who think deep thoughts. Chorus: Here's a man whose mind's now smart, no holding back--prepared to start. When you have learned all this from me you know your glory will arise among all men to heaven's skies. Strepsiades: And what will I get out of this? Chorus: For all time, you'll live with me a life most people truly envy. Strepsiades: You mean one day I'll really see that? Chorus: Hordes will sit outside your door wanting your advice and more-- to talk, to place their trust in you for their affairs and lawsuits, too, things which merit your great mind. They'll leave you lots of cash behind. Chorus Leader: [to Socrates] So get started with this old man's lessons, what you intend to teach him first of all--rouse his mind, test his intellectual powers. Socrates: Come on then, tell me the sort of man you are--once I know that, I can bring to bear on you my latest batteries with full effect. Strepsiades: What's that? By god, are you assaulting me? Socrates: No--I want to learn some things from you. What about your memory? Strepsiades: To tell the truth, it works two ways. If someone owes me something, I remember really well. But if it's poor me that owes the money, I forget a lot. Socrates: Do you have a natural gift for speech? Strepsiades: Not for speaking--only for evading debt. Socrates: ... Now, what do you do if someone hits you? Strepsiades: If I get hit, I wait around a while, then find witnesses, hang around some more, then go to court.

said

In the first case, you fear setting the price too low; in the second, you fear setting it too high. It is the job of your real-estate agent, of course, to find the golden mean. She is the one with all the information: the inventory of similar houses, the recent sales trends, the tremors of the mortgage market, perhaps even a lead on an interested buyer. You feel fortunate to have such a knowledgeable expert as an ally in this most confounding enterprise. Too bad she sees things differently. A real-estate agent may see you not so much as an ally but as a mark. Think back to the study cited at the beginning of this book, which measured the difference between the sale prices of homes that belonged to real-estate agents themselves and the houses

Why wait passively for the next terrorist attack--or a nuclear missile launched by a rogue state, or a cyberattack emanating from China or from a group of disaffected Estonian teens-- when we could be eliminating the root causes of conflict by fostering economic development and good governance, building relationships, creating networks of agents and allies, collecting data, promoting "new narratives," or striking potential future enemies before they can develop the ability to harm us?

Agent Keeler is the mole we planted. He’s been working undercover. The objective was to send an agent to infiltrate the Coalition, discover the mole from the inside out. Keeler’s combat skills, field experience, and brash character made him the perfect candidate for the assignment. We knew the Coalition would jump at the chance to recruit him if they believed he could be swayed to fight for their cause. “I instructed Keeler to play sympathetic to the Coalition’s purpose. It didn’t take long for our mole to make contact. Keeler received an anonymous text giving him a date, time, and place. He showed, spoke to someone who wasn’t the mole but had contact with him or her. Keeler negotiated the terms. He would join their ranks and provide intel so long as Coalition members kept their distance from THIRDS agents, specifically his team. To maintain the illusion he’d gone rogue, it was necessary for Destructive Delta to be kept in the dark. I then fed Keeler inside information to pass along.” All

Rath piped up, “Practice is good. Must train.

Yippee-ki-yay, chucklehead.

The troll said, “Quit lying around on the job.

It was the familiar “rogue agent defense” — the agents had no authority to make the promises, and therefore the promises were not legal.

She had no reason to doubt that defeat would mean death, but only after a substantial period of suffering. So, let’s avoid that.

Her sword sunk deep into his chest, instantly cleaving his heart and killing him. She pushed the body away with her magic, then kicked it once for good measure. “All the things that could have been, if only you weren’t so damaged inside. A pity, I suppose.

Things in my life are imperfect at the moment.” He nodded. “As they often are. Fortunately, you have the skills and will to persevere.

Cara said, “We’re in the middle game. It happens in every investigation. You plateau for a while, or you think you’ve finally got it, but discover you’ve got it wrong. We’ll get there. We have to keep pushing.

Rath laughed. “Rusty. Must train.

Rath laughed. “Never judge a Drow—or troll—by their cover.” Diana chuckled. “You’re reaching on that one, buddy.” “Nope. I’m hilarious.” She grinned at him. “That you are.

Tony observed, “Great ambush point.” Rath nodded. “For sure. Very dangerous. You go first.

A female of pure flame. Or that was how she chose to appear. Not how Lehabah had been made of flame, with her body visible, but rather a female cloaked in it, only a flash of a bare wrist or an ankle or shoulder through the veil. She was humanoid, but that was all he could glean. She looked like one of the radical sun-priests who’d gone rogue and immolated themselves to be close to their god. Who are you? he asked. Who are you? she challenged. Not one hint of her face. I asked first. Her flame flared, as if in annoyance. But she said, The little black dog sleeps soundly on a wool blanket. Ruhn blew out a breath. There it was—the code phrase Cormac had given him to confirm her identity. He said, And the gray tabby cleans her paws by the light of the moon. Utter nonsense. But she said, I’m Agent Daybright, in case that wasn’t clear enough. Now…you are? Ruhn peered down at himself, swearing. He hadn’t thought to hide his body— But he found only a form of night and stars, galaxies and planets. As if his silhouette had been filled by them. He lifted a hand, not finding skin but the starry blanket of the sky covering his fingers. Had his mind instinctively shielded him? Or was this what he was, deep below the skin? Was this fire-being standing thirty feet down the mental bridge what she was, deep below her own skin?

Good job, buddy.” He shrugged. “You’re easy to hide behind.” She scowled. “Is that a joke about my weight?” He laughed. “Of course not. More about your density.

The blind man laughed. “When you reach my age, not much changes.” “So you say. Perhaps you need more adventures.” The man smiled. “Perhaps, my friend.” Unlike so many people who used the phrase “My friend,” his blade instructor gave the impression that he meant it, that their connection was as strong as it had ever been, and that it would endure through all things. Rath aspired to be that sort of person and counted himself lucky to be surrounded by others who shared that trait.

She grinned and tousled his hair, then did the same to Max, which made Rath laugh again. “Feels good to finally have a couple of solid game-ending wins behind us, doesn’t it?” He nodded. “Definitely. Everything seemed iffy, there in the middle.” “Middles are like that. That’s the toughest part, where you have to keep slogging forward, knowing you’re getting closer with each step to the moment everything will come together.” “We’re lucky to have friends.” Diana tossed a piece of popcorn into the air and caught it in her mouth before responding. “Yeah, we had to ask for a lot of help, no doubt.

I realize this isn’t much to go on, Agent Lee.’ He thought for a moment. ‘True, but the last time you happened across a murder, the president lost his job. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt.

The agent does not want to come right out and call you a fool. So she merely implies it—perhaps by telling you about the much bigger, nicer, newer house down the block that has sat unsold for six months. Here is the agent’s main weapon: the conversion of information into fear. Consider this true story, related by John Donohue, a law professor who in 2001 was teaching at Stanford University: “I was just about to buy a house on the Stanford campus,” he recalls, “and the seller’s agent kept telling me what a good deal I was getting because the market was about to zoom. As soon as I signed the purchase contract, he asked me if I would need an agent to sell my previous Stanford house. I told him that I would probably try to sell without an agent, and he replied, ‘John, that might work under normal conditions, but with the market tanking now, you really need the help of a broker.’ ” Within five minutes, a zooming market had tanked. Such are the marvels that can be conjured by an agent in search of the next deal.

Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become one.” Friedrich Nietzsche

He was a rogue agent, acting without my prince’s sanction. Also, we wrote a letter of apology. Don’t know what else you want from us.” “That’s funny,” I said. “I didn’t get one. Did you send it to my old apartment? That must be why. See, it burned down while I was protecting that asshole from the Redemption Choir.” “I’ll see that you get a copy,” Royce said.

Lourd playing Leia in a flashback sequence in Star Wars The Force Awakens,used to be a rumor believed half heartedly by many not too long ago. Until she confirmed that portraying Leia in a flashback sequence was not the case. Why would she play Leia (in or not in a flashback sequence) in the first place? Is she identical to her mother? You decide that for yourself. I think Lourd is a good actress but not the Leia kind of girl. She seems to think that because she is Fisher's daughter, she can be hired. And there is a high chance that she will in Rogue One or some other Star Wars spin-off, But only because she is Fisher's daughter. If she wasn't the offspring of Fisher/Lourd, then she would probably not even care about getting hired to play Princess Leia unless she was asked. It is quite obvious that Lourd only wants to follow in her Mother's footsteps. She admires her Mother, (Fisher) and that is why she desires to play Princess Leia. Because she is Fisher's daughter she probably will be hired. But probably only for Rogue One or Star Wars Rebels. She only can stay young for a while. She is now 23 years old wich is about the same age as Fisher when she was filming for Star Wars Episode VII: Return of the Jedi. Lourd does not have much time left. But Disney seems to like her so she has a slight chance. Considering her father's being a casting agent, Lourd has an even greater chance of fulfilling her dream. But Disney could put more thought into her age and her looks. Does she look and sound like Fisher? I'll leave that to you." -Anne Onamuss

Particular gift is the ability to ask such questions. For instance: If drug dealers make so much money, why do they still live with their mothers? Which is more dangerous, a gun or a swimming pool? What really caused crime rates to plunge during the past decade? Do real-estate agents have their clients’ best interests at heart? Why do black parents give their children names that may hurt their career prospects? Do schoolteachers cheat to meet high-stakes testing.

teachers and criminals and real-estate agents may lie, and politicians, and even C.I.A. analysts. But numbers don’t.

So it is war. After centuries of peace. War, because one child disliked another. Nursed his hurts and watered them, cosseted them until he grew to manhood and they to hatred. War, for no reason than a warped man's greed for wealth and revenge.

Does the hammer demand of the hand that holds it why the chosen nail should be struck?" "This hammer does, yes!

To succeed as a youth, you must be focused, and be determined not to be a tool in the hands of rogues and desperate politicians.

No, we’re not experiencing a technical malfunction,” she said, a seething fury in her voice. “What we’re experiencing, dear comrades, is an agent gone rogue.

Interstate 290 cuts past Chicago’s Rush University hospital and then through the city’s near Southwest Side. Adjacent to the expressway, homeless people and others suffering from opioid-use disorders do deals and shoot up, and the highway also provides quick access for affluent people from the suburbs. “They serve you in your car, quick-out in under a minute, and you’re back home in Hinsdale before the kids wake,” Jack Riley, ex–special agent in charge of the DEA’s Chicago office, told Rolling Stone. “That’s why gangsters kill for those corners. They’re the Park Place and Boardwalk of the drug game.” To Chicago residents, 290 is better known as the Eisenhower Expressway or, to many, the Heroin Highway. Chicago’s famously high murder rate, which police say is driven by drug dealing on the West Side, all comes to a head near the Heroin Highway, in drug markets on streets like Independence Boulevard.