Roo Quotes

Just because an animal is large, it doesn't mean he doesn't want kindness; however big Tigger seems to be, remember that he wants as much kindness as Roo.

Farsi Couplet: Agar firdaus bar roo-e zameen ast, Hameen ast-o hameen ast-o hameen ast. English Translation: If there is a paradise on earth, It is this, it is this, it is this

Get over it, Roo. If you have friends who actually like you, you’re popular enough.

Even though Mr. Roo had been very hard on him, Mouse felt compassion and kindness...

Pooh hasn't much Brain, but he never comes to any harm. He does silly things and they turn out right. There's Owl. Owl hasn't exactly got Brain, but he Knows Things. He would know the Right Thing to Do when Surrounded by Water. There's Rabbit. He hasn't Learnt in Books, but he can always Think of a Clever Plan. There's Kanga. She isn't Clever, Kanga isn't, but she would be so anxious about Roo that she would do a Good Thing to Do without thinking about it. And then there's Eeyore. And Eeyore is so miserable anyhow that he wouldn't mind about this.

Stop changing the subject," Taylor snapped. "And think before you speak." Roo pressed her lips together and then sighed. "How long do you want me to think?" Niall let out a snort of laughter.

And out floated Eeyore. "Eeyore!" cried everybody. Looking very calm, very dignified, with his legs in the air, came Eeyore from beneath the bridge. "It's Eeyore!" cried Roo, terribly excited. "Is that so?" said Eeyore, getting caught up by a little eddy, and turning slowly round three times. "I wondered." "I didn't know you were playing," said Roo. "I'm not," said Eeyore. "Eeyore, what are you doing there?" said Rabbit. "I'll give you three guesses, Rabbit. Digging holes in the ground? Wrong. Leaping from branch to branch of a young oak-tree? Wrong. Waiting for somebody to help me out of the river? Right. Give Rabbit time, and he'll always get the answer." "But, Eeyore," said Pooh in distress, "what can we--I mean, how shall we--do you think if we--" "Yes," said Eeyore. "One of those would be just the thing. Thank you, Pooh.

A former exile who dabbles in alchemy and spent weeks in the employ of pirates. Yes, that sounds like someone they would want to mold the minds of the next generation.

Roo had seen something in it, and recognized a part of me that matched. How could someone know you better than yourself? Especially if they really didn’t know you, not at all.

[Kevin and Molly's adorable banter] "I'm not carrying anything until I see what's on your panties." "It's Daphne, okay?" "I'm supposed to believe you're wearing the same underpants you had on yesterday?" "I have more than one pair" "I think you're lying. I want to see for myself." He dragged her deeper into the pines. While Roo circled them barking, he reached for the snap on her shorts. "Quiet, Godzilla! There's some serious business going on here." Roo obediently quieted. She grabbed his wrists and pushed. "Get away." "That's not what you were saying last night." "Somebody'll see." "I'll tell them a bee got you, and I'm taking out the stinger." "Don't touch my stinger!" She grabbed for her shorts, but they were already heading for her knees. "Stop that!" He peered down at her panties. "It's the badger. You lied to me." "I wasn't paying attention when I got dressed." "Hold still. I've just about found that stinger." She heard herself sigh. "Oh, yeah..." His body moved against hers. "There it is.

I will endure, my midnight sun. I will teach my heart to beat again.

> Roo-ah-rooo-ahhh. >What's that? >It's the Cute Guy Alarm. > It sounds like a bird.

How did you fall in, Eeyore?" asked Rabbit, as he dried him with Piglet's handkerchief. "I didn't," said Eeyore. "But how--" "I was BOUNCED," said Eeyore. "Oo," said Roo excitedly, "did somebody push you?" "Somebody BOUNCED me. I was just thinking by the side of the river--thinking, if any of you know what that means--when I received a loud BOUNCE." "Oh, Eeyore!" said everybody. "Are you sure you didn't slip?" asked Rabbit wisely. "Of course I slipped. If you're standing on the slippery bank of a river, and somebody BOUNCES you loudly from behind, you slip. What did you think I did?

You are a servant of the Nameless One. Oh, nothing as exciting as that, Lady Tané. Just a lonely old man, trying to get off this island so I can die in my own country.

There could be no snakes in Quintana Roo's garden. Only later did I see that I had been raising her as a doll.

Noel: A lot of people see friends as something you have on Twitter or Facebook or wherever. If someone wants to read your updates and you want to read their updates, then you’re friends. You don’t ever have to see each other. But that seems like a stupid definition to me. Roo: Yeah. Noel: Although on the other hand, rethink. Maybe a friend is someone who wants your updates. Even if they’re boring. Or sad. Or annoyingly cutesy. A friend says, “Sign me up for your boring crap, yes indeed” – because he likes you anyway. He’ll tolerate your junk. Roo: You have lots of friends. Noel: No, I don’t. Roo: You do. You know everyone at school. You get invited to parties. Noel: I get invited to parties, yeah. And I know people. But I don’t want their updates. Roo: Oh. Noel: And I sincerely doubt they want mine. Roo: I want your updates. Noel: I want your updates. (He looks down, bashfully.) I do. I want all your updates, Ruby.

Why didn't you call?" Taylor asked. "I did. No one answered." Roo bent to refill her handbag. Ah. "So how were going to get in the house?" "I thought I'd just wait for you to come back." She started to tap her foot. "Why didn't you go home and call a locksmith?" Taylor asked. Roo glared. "What is this? The Spanish Inquisition?" Then she grinned. "Oh, I've waited years to say that." Taylor bit back his laugh.

You must be careful with that, Roos. It’s a dangerous thing, to try and give someone everything. One day, you might find you’ve given away things you should’ve kept. Some parts of us must remain inviolate if we are to survive as a person.

The ree the ra the ree the ra the roo. Lord, I mustn't lilt here.

February's so gloomy in this part of the world", said Mrs. de Roo, "don't you think? It's not so much a month as a twenty-eight day long Monday morning

Roo!" Calvin jumps off my lap in a happy dog dance. I know some people who argue that dogs can't understand English. I figure their dogs are just a lot dumber than Calvin, because there is a definite understanding of the words ice cream.

My Poverty doesn't help anyone, but my wealth helps a lot of people.

If I was the pope, I'd've made Mrs. de Roo a saint. On the spot.

There could be no snake in Quntana Roo's garden. Only later did I see that I had been raising her as a doll.

Roo: What’s your definition of popularity? Hutch: I used to think people were popular because they were good-looking, or nice, or funny, or good at sports. Roo: Aren’t they? Hutch: I’d think, if I could just be those things, I’d – you know – have more friends than I do. But in seventh grade, when Jackson and those guys stopped hanging out with me, I tried as hard as I could to get them to like me again. But then . . . (shaking his head as if to clear it) I don’t really wanna talk about it. Roo: What happened? Hutch: They just did some ugly stuff to me is all. And really, it was for the best. Roo: Why? Hutch: Because I was cured. I realized the popular people weren’t nice or funny or great-looking. They just had power, and they actually got the power by teasing people or humiliating them – so people bonded to them out of fear. Roo: Oh. Hutch: I didn’t want to be a person who could act like that. I didn’t want to ever speak to any person who could act like that. Roo: Oh Hutch: So then I wasn’t trying to be popular anymore. Roo: Weren’t you lonely? Hutch: I didn’t say it was fun. (He bites his thumbnail, bonsai dirt and all.) I said it was for the best.

Girls in fairy tales are losers,” said Roo. “No they aren’t,” said Claude. “Yes they are. Not like losers. Losers. Girls in fairy tales are always losing stuff.” “Nuh-uh,” said Claude. “Yuh-huh. They lose their way in the woods or their shoe on the step or their hair even though they’re in a tower with no door and their hair is like literally attached to their head.” “Or their voice,” Ben put in. “Or their freedom or their family or their name. Or their identity. Like she can’t be a mermaid anymore

Väikeste kangekaelsete vanade naiste imepärasel kandevõimel püsivad teinekord terved ühiskonnad ja kultuuridki.

Roo climbed off, and sat down next to him. “Oo, Tigger,” he said excitedly, “are we at the top?” “No,” said Tigger. “Are we going to the top?” “No,” said Tigger. “Oh,” said Roo rather sadly. And then he went on hopefully: “That was a lovely bit just now, when you pretended we were going to fall-bump-to-the-bottom, and we didn’t. Will you do that bit again?” “NO,” said Tigger. Roo was silent for a little while, and then he said, “Shall we eat our sandwiches, Tigger?” And Tigger said, “Yes, where are they?” And Roo said, “At the bottom of the tree.” And Tigger said, “I don’t think we’d better eat them just yet.” So they didn’t.

He pulled forth and waggled a leash. A leash. To go around her neck.

A love that is not sated Calls from a poisoned bed; Where monsters half-created writhe, unliving and undead. None knows for what they’re fated; None knows on what they’ve fed.

Hou niet van lezen, maar ik ga het toch proberen

O relógio come o tempo, o calendário devora o tempo e os instantes eu mesmo roo.

Roos Boum, Spraakmakende boeken waar je stil van wordt.

He wear a roo suit - grey-green dapple thing, ain't satisfy to be one ugly color, it be ugly twice.

It’s a good thing people’s needs don’t all arise at the same time; otherwise we wouldn’t be able to meet them all. When you left Wisconsin, it was Poppy’s turn. Roo’s is coming.

But if you went back to wearing pants,’ said Roo, ‘you could retire ten years earlier.

I meant the house behind him clutching his chest, Parker gasped. Gage! you pervert! That's Mrs. Falconi-she's ninety-six years old! Clearing her throat,Miss Dupree struggled to keep her own amusement in check. Thank you Roo,for that fascinating bit of information. And should any of us a pervert lurking outside our windows tonight, We can all rest easily now,Knowing it's only Gage.

It seems like there’s something mysterious about what lives and what dies.” He saw that Roo’s face had gone grim, and he added, “But each time I find an animal that needs help, I help it as though I’m sure it will live.

There were the youngest children, small girls with leis, barefoot. There were watercress sandwiches, champagne, lemonade, peach-colored napkins to match the sorbet that came with the cake, peacocks on the lawn. She kicked off the expensive shoes and unpinned the veil. 'Wasn't that just about perfect,' she said when she called that evening.

Mom calls me Patch-a-roo and Patch-a-roo-ny. She usually croons these names to me or crows them as if she’s imitating the rooster. I know this is a little odd, but I’m a really special dog. Of course, sometimes she calls me Stink-a-roo.

Ooooh! Die was raak! Ik heb de roos geraakt,' gilde ze op een toon waarvan zij dacht dat die op meisjesachtige opwinding leek. Ze liet de boog vallen en klapte in haar handen. Arnaut rolde met zijn ogen. 'Aanstelster,' zei hij zachtjes.

Gekromd sta je tegen de branding in. Van het balkon af kan ik zien hoe geschreeuw zich terug in je gezicht slingert, gutsend in je nek als wild haar. Als je je hoofd achterovergooit alsof je een fles aan je mond zet, krijgt je adamsappel iets van een ruggengraat. Ik streel enkele meters van je af. Het is een milde avond. Vannacht borduurt een roos zich op je hemd. Het duurt uren om haar van je borst los te maken. Je kijkt alsof je me kunt zien, nu je ligt te slapen, wimpers als garen, neus tussen wijsvinger en duim - een bloedneus stelpend die er niet is - ik trek je hoofd achterover. Je omgekeerde mond in de spiegel imiteert iets grappigs. We kussen terwijl het over ons heen uit ons weg blijft sijpelen, zo graag zoekt het zich een weg.

Through that whole winter and spring, Claude came home every day from preschool, shed his clothes, and put the princess dress back on. And there at the beginning, after the first afternoon or two, no one—not Claude, not his brothers, not his parents—gave much thought to his dress, for he was still and always just Claude, and was it any stranger, really, than Roo performing a séance in the downstairs bathroom or than Rigel licking the spine of every book in the house to prove he could taste the difference between fiction and nonfiction? It was not. Then

If one drop of semen contains more life than a drop of blood, why don’t vampires suck cock? Oh wait… Twilight.

It's not brave if your not scared.

man cheats on his girlfriend named Lorraine with a girl named Clearly. Suddenly, Lorraine died. At the funeral, the man stands up and sings, “I can see Clearly now, Lorraine is gone.

What pit of hell did the nickname Joey-Roo come from?” Wells grumbled. He regretted his tone when she choked a little. “Oh. Well, they started calling me Joey when I was a baby, which as you know, is what they call a baby kangaroo. Hence, Roo.” “Ridiculous.” “It’s better than all of your nicknames.” “Which are?” “The Prick of Putting, the Doomsday Driver. And my personal favorite, Unhappy Gilmore

Would I taste like chicken? Then it occurred to her what meal these people planned, which brought on an even more evil realization. They’re going to shove their hand up my butt and fill me with stuffing. Squawk.

He could say it,’ Roo explained, and his mother was surprised to hear his voice, ‘and it wouldn’t matter. For just a minute, it was like we didn’t all have to be carrying around this crazy secret.’ Rosie and Penn found themselves looking at Ben as if he were the one who could tell them whether all this was true or just boyish bullshittery. ‘Secrets are heavy things,’ he said, absolving neither his brothers nor his parents.

Quiéreme. Quiéreme, cuando las noches pesen, cuando mi alma fallece, quiéreme a diario y cuéntame todos tus días como si fuese un diario. Quiéreme cuando las historias en mi cabeza no conecten con la realidad, cuando te quieras apartar. Quiéreme incluso cuando no sepas que hacer, cuando quieras correr. Quiéreme cuando me quiebre en mil pedazos y mis sueños pretenda dejar. Quiéreme cuando la luna no este llena y las olas del mar me quieran llevar. Amor, la única estrella que debe perdurar sobre mi pecho, es tu mirada.

Say the point of sex isn’t recreation of procreation or any of that stuff. Say it’s concentration. Say it’s supposed to focus your attention on the person you’re sleeping with--like biological hi-lighter. ... Otherwise, there’s just too many people in the world.

The sun had burned off whatever morning fog and low clouds had gripped the city, and now a glorious fall day was upon them. Warm sunlight caressed his face as cool ocean breezes carried the sound of gulls and the tang of salt. He remembered the stab of pain he had felt when he had thought he would not see the day, and the terror and panic that had gripped him as rough hands had placed him upon the gallows returned. Erik felt a choking sensation in his own chest, and suddenly, without any ability to control it, he began to weep. Roo

But Welsh spellings are as nothing compared with Irish Gaelic, a language in which spelling and pronunciation give the impression of having been devised by separate committees, meeting in separate rooms, while implacably divided over some deep semantic issue. Try pronouncing geimhreadh, Gaelic for “winter,” and you will probably come up with something like “gem-reed-uh.” It is in fact “gyeeryee.” Beaudhchais (“thank you”) is “bekkas” and Ó Séaghda (“Oh-seeg-da?”) is simply “O’Shea.” Against this, the Welsh pronunciation of cwrw—“koo-roo”—begins to look positively self-evident.

It would have been so easy for her--men would have told her anything. They’d have given up secret information just like that.” Snapping her fingers, Ashley coolly confronted Parker’s indignation. “Come on, give us guys a little credit. Why would any high-ranking officer share classified information with his little groupie, huh?” “Because those high-ranking officers were men.” Roo’s stare was as condescending as her tone. “And men only think with their--” “Downstairs brain,” Ashley finished. While the guys conceded with slight embarrassment, Roo and Miranda laughed. “Good one, Ash.

I’m worried about middle school, skipping a grade, not knowing everyone, being too young, and being so much smarter than Roo that the teachers won’t believe him when he says I’m his brother. I’m worried my friends will think I think I’m too smart for them, even though I don’t, even though I am. I’m worried about taking a shower with a whole bunch of other kids after gym. I’m worried about art class because art is required, and I suck at art. I’m worried about Claude because other kids are going to make fun of him and be mean to him and maybe try to hurt him, and he doesn’t even care. And you and Mom don’t even care.

The important thing is that short and strenuous reverence be paid to the spirit of discipline. Three things keep a body of troops in fighting form: fighting spirit, strength and discipline. Fighting spirit – as I have said before – is the least easy to influence. It is the great prerequisite and justification of war – the spirit of the race and of the blood pledged to the last drop. There lie the roos of the strength whose full development is dependent on outward conditions, fresh air nourishment, clothing, and a lot else. When this soil fails fighting spirit is like a seedling plated in arenaceous quartz – it goes on growing for a while of its own resources and then gives out. It is a tragic destiny when a great enterprise comes to grief from this cause. Finally, the purpose of discipline is to economize and direct the two elements so that they are brought to bear on one aim with overwhelming force. It is a means, not an end; it is in seeing it in its true proportion that the real fighter is distinguished from the soldier. It is one of the danger-points of the Prussian system that it easily loses sight of the spirit in the letter and of real strength in the empty show of it. One of the most terrible apparitions is the sheer drill-master – a machine that goes by clockwork. It is bound to break down for the mere reason that in war there is no rule but the exception.

Accepteer dat niet al je gevoelens, angsten en verlangens grijpbaar zijn; dat een pijntje of een kriebeltje af en toe hoort bij de eb en vloed van het leven en dat je niet altijd hoeft te snappen waarom. Een cliënte van mij zei een keer: "Het is net als met files. Soms zit je opeens vast en even later ben je er weer uit, en je hebt geen idee waarom.

Ik ontving pas nu de call sheet voor het programma "Sean Light Night". Aan de telefoon vertelde Sean me over 22h30, nu moet ik er plots vanaf 14h zijn en gebeuren de opnames om 17h15. Eerst komt Roos van Acker gedurende 20 minuten en als er dan nog 10 minuutjes over blijven dan kan Van Rossem nog heel eventjes komen. Helemaal te gek: Sean stuurde me de vragen EN OOK WAT IK MOET ANTWOORDEN!!!! Nog nooit gezien. In zo'n gekkenhuis speel ik onder geen beding mee. Ze vinden wel één of andere sul die daar 3h of meer zijn tijd zit te verbeuzelen om nadien voorgekauwde antwoorden te geven op voorgekauwde vragen. Ik wil Sean Dhondt bellen dat ik onder geen beding kom, maar op zijn mails vind ik wel een waslijst van email adressen maar nergens een telefoon.

Then Wallace happened. Stepping onto the field something seemed different. As always, he had an energetic quality to him, jumping for the discs and shaking with anticipation, but Roo could sense something else in his bearing, see it in the way he carried himself. His tail was stiff except for the tip, which flicked steadily. His ears were perked, his eyes wide. The music kicked on, the discus began to fly, and Wallace did the rest. He ran a little faster, jumped a little higher. He appeared, if it was possible, to move with a little more grace. He caught nearly everything. As the routine progressed, Roo felt that sensation, that connection and singularity of purpose that had struck him during earlier competitions. He could sense that Josh felt it too, and the three of them worked in perfect synchronicity sharing an instant, almost nonverbal communication.

Just then a familiar voiced spoke right in to Stephens’s ear which startled him as his eyes once again began slowly opening. “Don’t try to move or talk you two, not that you could if you wanted to anyway.” It was Bob inches away from his face and he sounded very different now, his voice was low and threatening and his eyes were unsmiling and cold. “Very soon you will be gone and there will be no trace of any of you here, or us for that matter.” He felt Bob go through his pockets until eventually he saw that he had pulled his van keys out of his pocket. Stephen looked around for his baby and he could see the others passing a sleeping Rosie clutching Roo and her dummy to the goblin like creatures. They grabbed her with their long thin hands with talon like fingers and then began sniffing her like animals that smelt out the prey. Bob saw him looking at them walking off with Rosie. “Don’t worry Stephen. The sproggers will care for her” Bob told him before letting out a spine shivering sinister laugh.

Vanmiddag kwam je brief en ik was er zó blij mee. Als je altijd zo was als in deze brief. Het leek weer net als vroeger en ik was ineens weer zo verliefd op je. Ik denk dat ik maar blijf totdat ik weer terug ben. 't Is een erg prettig gevoel. Mijn eenzame bed begint hoe langer hoe eenzamer te lijken en ik verlang ernaar om uit te vinden of je zoenen dezelfde herinneringen op zullen roepen als deze brief. Ik verlang nog net als vroeger naar een geluk dat langer duurt dan een omhelzing. En ik weet niet of het bestaat, net als vijf jaar geleden. Ik heb vanavond het gevoel alsof je niet bestaat. Wat ik je had willen schrijven staat nergens in mijn brief.

While there was still water in the middle of the pools, animals attempted to reach it through the silt but would get bogged. We spent day after day checking dams, finding about eight to ten animals hopelessly mired in the silt at each and every dam, primarily kangaroos and wallabies. We had to get to the dams early in the morning. Some of the kangaroos had been struggling all night. Steve engineered planks and straps to rescue the animals. The silt would suck us down just as fast, so we had to be careful going out to rescue the roos. Because of the lactic acid buildup in their tissues (a product of their all-night exertions to free themselves), some of the kangaroos were too far gone and couldn’t recover. But we saved quite a few. At one point, Bob came out to lend a hand. I was at the homestead, and the ovulation strip turned bright blue. I hustled over to the creek bed where Steve and his dad were working. I motioned to Steve. “The strip is blue,” I said. He looked around nervously. “I’m out here working with me dad,” he said. “What do you want me to do?” “Just come on,” I whispered impatiently. “But my dad’s right here!” I smiled and took his hand. We headed up the dry creek bed and spent some quality time with the biting ants and the prickles. It was after this trip to our conservation property in the Brigalow Belt that I discovered I was pregnant. I tried to let Steve know by sitting down at the table and tucking into a bowl of ice cream and pickles. “What are you doing?” asked a totally confused Steve. I explained, and we were both totally overjoyed, keeping our fingers crossed for a boy to go along with our darling daughter.

« Je ne veux pas continuer ! Tu ne comprends donc pas ? Personne en ce monde ne veut donc le comprendre, maudits ? Suis-je le seul à être hanté ? » Un trémolo furieux modula son timbre. « Tout ce que j'ai fait – tout ce que j'étais – tout ce que je suis, c'est à cause de lui. Il était déjà quelqu'un avant moi. Je ne suis personne sans lui. J'en ai marre de vivre sans lui à mes côtés. Il m'a délaissé au profit de ce livre et, par le Saint, je lui en veut profondément. Je lui en veux chaque minute de chaque jour. » Sa voie se brisa. « Vous, les Lasians, vous croyez en la vie après la mort, n'est-ce-pas ? » Laya le considéra. « Certains d'entre nous, oui. L'Vergé des divinités, confirma-t-elle. Il t'attend p'têt là-bas. Ou à la Grande Table du Saint. Ou p'têt qu'il est nulle part. Quoi qu'il en soit, toi, t'es encore là. Et c'est pas sans raison. » Elle porta une main cailleuse à sa joue. « T'as un fantôme, Niclays, N'en devient pas un toi-même. »

Maar het is me vaak gebeurd dat ik de verleidelijkste voorstellingen van de zonde juist aantrof in de geschriften van die mannen van onkreukbare deugdzaamheid, die de bekoring en de invloeden ervan veroordeelden. Teken dat zij worden gedreven door een zodanige ijver om van de waarheid te getuigen dat zij, uit liefde voor God, niet aarzelen aan het kwaad alle verlokkingen toe te schrijven waarin het zich hult, om de mensen beter in kennis te stellen van de manieren waarop de Boze hen bekoort.

En hij zei tegen me: “De helse kwellingen zijn oneindig veel erger dan onze tong kan zeggen. Zie je,” zei hij, “deze mantel van sofismen waarin ik tot heden gehuld was? Hij drukt zwaar op mij, als torste ik de hoogste toren van Parijs of alle bergen van de wereld op mijn schouders en kon ik ze nooit meer van me afwerpen. En deze straf is mij door de goddelijke rechtvaardigheid opgelegd voor mijn ijdelheid, omdat ik mijn lichaam voor een plaats van genot hield en omdat ik meende meer te weten dan de anderen, en omdat ik genoegen schepte in monsterlijke dingen die, door mijn fantasie gekoesterd, in het binnenste van mijn ziel nog veel monsterlijker dingen hebben voortgebracht – en nu zal ik eeuwig met ze moeten leven. Zie je? De voering van deze mantel is als uit gloed en vuur, het is het vuur dat mijn lichaam verteert, en deze straf is mij opgelegd voor de onterende zonde van het vlees die ik heb begaan, en dit vuur brandt nu in mij en verteert me zonder ophouden! Reik me je hand, o schone leermeester,” zei hij toen, “opdat deze ontmoeting je tot nuttige lering moge strekken, in vergelding voor de vele lessen die je mij hebt gegeven, reik me je hand, o schone leermeester!” En hij schudde de vinger van zijn gloeiende hand en er viel een druppeltje van zijn zweet op mijn hand en het leek alsof het mijn hand doorboorde, want nog vele dagen droeg ik het teken ervan, ofschoon ik het voor de anderen verborg.

Jan Roos mag z'n zegje komen doen voor 15 minuten in een talkshow.

Dhr. Jan Roos heeft vast en zeker het Rijksdaggebouw in Berlijn op 27 februari 1933 aangestoken, waarna ik natuurlijk vraag of de pyromaan de brand blussen mag.

Often you’ll hear it said that revenge is a dish best served cold. This is a mistake; you must never lose the heat of rage that drives you to revenge.” He studied Roo’s face. “Forgiveness is a virtue in some temples. But if you are not virtuous, then study your enemy.” He tapped his head. “Think. Think about what drives him and what his strengths and weaknesses are. Keep the fires within banked, and plot coolly, but when everything is in place, unleash the fire and enjoy the hot flush of revenge.

Eggte liefde Ei L'oeuf Y0u.

Beauty loses its meaning when you're surrounded by roo much of it.

Imesid juhtub hulga sagedamini, kui neid tähele pannakse, ja õnn armastab tihiti inimesi, keda teised veidraks peavad. Miracles happen a lot more often than they are noticed, and fortune often loves people who are considered strange by others.

If you’re really thirsty for serious coffee culture and football, it takes nine hours to Melbourne and thirteen to Sydney. If you drive to my hometown from Sydney, you’ll find stretches of road that are so long and straight you could place a brick on the accelerator and take a twenty-minute nap without veering off the road or missing anything in the dry, lifeless landscape of red sand, with its scattered blue saltbush and thirsty mulga and Mallee trees as far as the eye can see. The only thing that might wake you from your snooze would be hitting a red kangaroo. After happily hopping across the land with no particular plan in mind, startled kangaroos usually stop and stand frozen in the middle of the road, curious about the strange machine rocketing towards them. What a way to go. Here’s a tip: attach a ‘roo bar’ – not a place where kangaroos will dance for money, but a very solid metal grill – to the front of your car; that way, the impact

it takes nine hours to Melbourne and thirteen to Sydney. If you drive to my hometown from Sydney, you’ll find stretches of road that are so long and straight you could place a brick on the accelerator and take a twenty-minute nap without veering off the road or missing anything in the dry, lifeless landscape of red sand, with its scattered blue saltbush and thirsty mulga and Mallee trees as far as the eye can see. The only thing that might wake you from your snooze would be hitting a red kangaroo. After happily hopping across the land with no particular plan in mind, startled kangaroos usually stop and stand frozen in the middle of the road, curious about the strange machine rocketing towards them. What a way to go. Here’s a tip: attach a ‘roo bar’ – not a place where kangaroos will dance for money, but a very solid metal grill – to the front of your car; that way, the impact will do more damage to the kangaroo than it does to your vehicle.

He doesn’t condemn the Vogelers for their opinion, since when he himself met Roo he also would have said they weren’t on the same wavelength, though in fact the signals she broadcast made him hum like a stereo amplifier.

Though he had known Roo for nearly three months at this point, Fred was still intoxicated with her—and not only sexually. As if she had been some mind-expanding drug, he was in a constant state of heightened awareness: what he saw seemed both strange and amazingly familiar.

Roo didn’t answer. But the question, he soon saw, was not a rhetorical one.

Roo was his red flag, his declaration of independence—and in the beginning, the less comfortable his family and more conventional friends were with her, the better pleased he was. Now he feels shamed and enraged to realize that they had judged her more accurately than he. His father, for instance, held the unspoken but clearly evident opinion that Roo was not a lady.

Arusaamine ja mõistmine on vahest nagu kõhuviirus: kui see ühel tekib, on see varsti kõigil ning tagasi pöörata seda ei saa. Understanding and being understood is sometimes like a stomach virus: if one gets it, soon everyone will have it, and it cannot be reversed.

You are thinking too much Roo. You are draining yourself. Some things are out of our reach. We cannot know everything. We cannot control everything. But we can control ourselves. Happiness is right within us. It is inside you! He did not wave a magic wand to make you happy. You were always happy. You made him happy and so he loved you. He loved you because you are so lovable. It is difficult not to love you. You are a cracker of happiness and fervour. And now strength! So better not lose either.

Ah, that name again," Callian said. "When will I get to meet the mysterious Roo?" "I can take you to meet her," Kuma said with a shy smile. "Later today, if you want." "Make sure she's in the right kind of mood first," Raffa added. "If she's not, I wouldn't go anywhere near her--she can be pretty ferocious." "Shakes, you're making her sound like--like a bear or something," Callian said. Raffa and Kuma exchanged puzzled glances. "You didn't tell him?" Raffa asked. Kuma frowned a little. "I guess it never came up," she said. "What never came up?" Callian was clearly confused. "She is a bear," Kuma said. Callian shrugged. "Some folks are just grumpier than others, I guess." Raffa snorted. "No, she's a bear. A really big one." He stretched his arm overhead to indicate Roo's height. Callian looked at Raffa. "A bear" Raffa nodded Callian turned to Kuma. "A bear?' "A bear," she said. "Um, are you-- is she--" "A bear," they said together. A pause. "Okay," Callian said at least. "A bear.

En algún momento de la vida mis noches fueron ríos de llanto e inviernos de desesperación, porque por el día, la ansiedad me carcomía.

Caught, she stood where she was. He only hesitated a moment and then moved toward her. It was like a dream: dust floating, a guitar wailing, cool air caressing. In three easy strides, he was in front of her. In four, his arms reached out and encircled her waist with one hand and her face with the other. Testing, his thumb ran lightly over her bottom lip, and then he brushed her mouth with his. “You are real.” His voice was husky in her ear. Her breath caught just before his lips sealed hers.

Saeris – Sair-Iss Rusarius — Roo-sar-ee-us Omnamshacry — Om-nam-sha-cry Iseabail — Ee-sha-bahl Belikon —Bell-eh-con. Oshellith — Oh-shay-lith. Taladaius — Tal-ah-day-us Daianthus — Day-an-thus Lorreth — Lor-uth Balquhidder Clan— Bal-kid-er (clan) Te Lèna —Tay Len-Ah Danya — Dan-Yah

While I was punching him in the head I was also saying, ‘That’s. My. Sister. You’re. Talking. About. Asshole.’” “Don’t say ‘ass,’ Roo.” There were so many things to object to here, Penn defaulted back to the one that was familiar. “‘That’s my sister you’re talking about, Hole,’” Roo amended, and then added miserably, “It was a crime of passion.

After a few minutes there was a click on the line and a voice said in Farsi,"Goh Benares roo gahbret." This roughly translated as: "May shit rain down upon your grave." "Goozidam too chesmet," Tom replied. "I fart in your eye.

Lissack and Roos also counsel us to think about thinking in terms of a child's building blocks; a simplistic notion, you might say, until you realize that the most fundamental cognitive skill in humans - perhaps the only one we bring into the world - is the ability to per- ceive contrasts and to assemble them into simple structures.

The text is filled with anecdotes and accounts of effective managers putting to use the very skills that Lissack and Roos call on the rest of us to develop. We visit Southwest Airlines, lKEA, Tripod, and other exemplars of success. Though there is much discussion of chaos and complexity theory, there is no showy science or gratuitous mathematics. Though a work of philosophy by a pair of professional scholars, there's not a speck of academic pretension. No, you won't find recipes, roadmaps, or 12 steps to recovery here. But as you read this book you may find yourself asking why you ever thought other authors could provide such all-purpose solutions to the unique vexations of your own organization life.

Her last words grabbed his attention, and he forgot me completely. Valerie looped her arm around Fane’s and they walked toward the double doors. I was right behind them, silent as a ghost. When I reached the hall entrance leading to the locker roo

Roo was a confirmed spinster, devoted birdwatcher and, to the chagrin of many of her relatives, a card-carrying liberal Democrat

Murder?” Roo’s eyes shone with excitement. “Right here on Belle Isle?” “Roo!” Evelyn shook her head in exasperation. “For God’s sake, have you no sense of propriety?

Mom! It was so awesome,” Maggy enthused. “Me and Roo had our own hurricane party. The seagulls were, like, flying backward. And the clouds are so thick, you can’t even see Big Belle.

Qlv— R’oo nzpv gsrh lmv ivzoob hrnkov. KFAAOV #5 Dszg uznlfh wlt dzh ldmvw yb gsv gsrigb-hvevmgs Kivhrwvmg lu gsv FHZ? Vzhb, irtsg? Dszg, blf mvvw z srmg?

Dominique Bauby (1997), who was the editor in chief of the French Elle magazine, has authored a small and extremely sensitive and articulated work, The Diving Bell and the Butterfly. His wording is amazingly precise. Bauby suffered a cerebrovascular accident to his brain stem in December 1995. The result was "locked-in

by the light of Gypsy fires, my sister and I came of age way too soon our childhoods were swept away

Troll welcomes you to Norway, (these legendary creatures live throughout the mountains of Norway)

I ride hard to fetch the roo.

Have the heart of a giant, but know you're a man.

every country has pest animals – but it’s not often that they’re bigger than we are. Or that they outnumber us – thirty-four million roos, against the twenty-three million-strong population of Australia.

We drove into the Cradle Mountain resort still munching on raspberries. Emma and Kate waited with the kids in the car. “I’ll just be a minute,” I said. “I’ll check in and we’ll head to our rooms.” The currawongs were calling, and a padymelon, a small version of a roo, hopped off a wall just at the edge of the car park as I went in. “Where’s all the snow?” I asked the woman behind the desk. “It snowed this morning,” she said. “Well, good,” I said. “There’s hope.” Then she passed me a note. She said, “Frank called from the zoo.” “I’m not surprised,” I said. “I haven’t called the zoo all day, and Frank is always trying to track me down.” “Why don’t you come take the call in the office?” she said. I thought that was a little odd, since when I had been there before I’d always used the pay phone near the pub at the resort. But I entered the office and sat down in a big, comfortable chair. I could see the car park out the window. Emma and Kate were still out at the car. Robert had fallen asleep, and Kate sat inside with him. Bindi smiled and laughed with Emma. “How you going, Frank?” I said into the phone. He said, “Hi, Terri. I’ve been trying to get hold of you for a while.” His voice had a heavy, serious tone. “Well, I’ve just got here,” I said. “Sorry about that, but I’m here now. What’s up?” “I’m sorry to say that Steve had a bit of an accident while he was diving,” Frank said. “I’m afraid he got hit in the chest by a stingray’s barb.” I’m sure there wasn’t much of a pause, but I felt time stop. I knew what Frank was going to say next. I just kept repeating the same thing over and over in my head. Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say it. Then Frank said the three words I did not want him to say, “And he died.” I took a deep breath and looked out the window. There was Bindi, so happy to have finally arrived at one of her favorite places. We were going to have fun. She had brought her teacher and Kate. She was so excited. And the world stopped. I took another breath. “Thank you very much for calling, Frank,” I said. I didn’t know what I was saying. I was overwhelmed, already on autopilot. “You need to cancel the rest of our trip, you need to contact my family in Oregon, and you need to get us home.” So it began.

The study of wildlife was a household passion. Bob loved all reptiles, even venomous snakes. Lyn took in the injured and orphaned. They made a great team, and Steve was born directly from their example and teaching. “Whenever we were driving,” Steve told me, “if we saw a kangaroo on the side of the roadway that had been killed by a car, we always stopped.” Mother and son would investigate the dead roo and, if it was female, check its pouch. They rescued dozens, maybe hundreds, of live kangaroo joeys this way, brought them home, and raised them. “We had snakes and goannas mostly, but also orphaned roo joeys, sugar gliders, and possums,” Steve said about these humble beginnings. “We didn’t have enclosures for crocodiles. That came later, after my parents became sick to death of the hatred they saw directed toward crocs.” I soon became aware that as much as Steve loved his parents equally, he got different things from each of them. Bob was his hero, his mentor, the man he wanted to become. Bob’s knowledge of reptile--and especially snake--behavior made him an invaluable resource for academics all over the country. The Queensland Museum wanted to investigate the ways of the secretive fierce snake, and Bob shared their passion. When the administrators of the Queensland Parks and Wildlife Service wanted to relocate problem crocodilians, they called Bob. Meanwhile, Lyn became, in Steve’s words, “the Mother Teresa of animal rescue.” Lyn designed a substitute pouch for orphaned roo and wallaby joeys. She came up with appropriate formulas to feed them too. Lyn created the warm, nurturing environment that made Steve’s dreams, goals, and aspirations real and reachable. Steve was always a boy who loved his mum, and Lyn was the matriarch of the family. While Bob and Steve were fearless around taipans and saltwater crocs, they had the utmost respect for Lyn. She was a pioneering wildlife rehabilitator who set the mark for both Steve and myself. From the very first, I was welcomed into the Irwin family. The greatest thing was that I felt Lyn and Bob loved me not just because I was married to Steve, but for myself, for who I was. That gave me confidence to feel at home as a new arrival to Australia.