Standby Quotes

Some people standby you in your darkest hour while others walk away; only a select few march towards you and become even closer friends.

Does this mean you’re going to make love to me tonight, Christian?” Holy shit. Did I just say that? His mouth drops open slightly, but he recovers quickly. “No, Anastasia it doesn’t. Firstly, I don’t make love. I fuck… hard. Secondly, there’s a lot more paperwork to do, and thirdly, you don’t yet know what you’re in for. You could still run for the hills. Come, I want to show you my playroom.” My mouth drops open. Fuck hard! Holy shit, that sounds so… hot. But why are we looking at a playroom? I am mystified. “You want to play on your Xbox?” I ask. He laughs, loudly. “No, Anastasia, no Xbox, no Playstation. Come.”… Producing a key from his pocket, he unlocks yet another door and takes a deep breath. “You can leave anytime. The helicopter is on stand-by to take you whenever you want to go, you can stay the night and go home in the morning. It’s fine whatever you decide.” “Just open the damn door, Christian.” He opens the door and stands back to let me in. I gaze at him once more. I so want to know what’s in here. Taking a deep breath I walk in. And it feels like I’ve time-traveled back to the sixteenth century and the Spanish Inquisition. Holy fuck.

On the left side of a strong woman, stands a strong man; he is strengthened by her character.

Dreams, dreams. I walk them; I live them. I delude myself with them. It's a wonder I can spot reality anymore. " he turned from me with a sigh. "I need a drink. " "Oh, good. That'll fix everything. I'm glad in a world gone mad, you've still got your old standbys. " "What do you expect me to do?" he asked. "You could . . . You could . . . Well, now that you're here, you could help us. Plus, this guy we're meeting. He's another spirit user. " "Yeah, that's exactly what I want. To help my girlfriend get her old boyfriend back. " He turned away again, and I heard him mutter, "I need two drinks.

Keefe snorted. “Only Foster has a physician on standby.

The relationship between a perfect cup of coffee and a writer is just like the couple who always standby and feel proud of being committed to each other.

Neville's a pleasant sort of standby when there's nothing more exciting on the go. A safe, attractive, reliable chap. He's respectful, never having tried to get her into bed which, if she was a better sort of person, she might appreciate.

We crave connection, but so much of the time we are not alive, neutralized. Who are you when you’re listening to the radio in traffic? You are not you, you are on standby. Mostly we are free-floating and disengaged, lost in the spectacle.

Here's what I want from a book, what I demand, what I pray for when I take up a novel and begin to read the first sentence: I want everything and nothing less, the full measure of a writer's heart. I want a novel so poetic that I do not have to turn to the standby anthologies of poetry to satisfy that itch for music, for perfection and economy of phrasing, for exactness of tone. Then, too, I want a book so filled with story and character that I read page after page without thinking of food or drink because a writer has possessed me, crazed with an unappeasable thirst to know what happens next.

Sorrow comes with so many defense mechanisms. You have your shock, your denial, your getting wasted, your cracking jokes, and your religion. You also have the old standby catchall—the blind belief in fate, the whole "things happening for a reason" drill.

What about the old standby of kicking a guy in the groin?" "Try to." Love to...

Yeah, he'd been trained to be good with details, but once his dick started working, his brain generally shifted to standby.

You should understand that I did not want you to read a painting. I/ wanted you to bathe in it before words domesticated the experience,/ and you turned to such stand-bys as "illumination" and "transcendent"/ to describe what happened to you. Painting should not be sentenced to/ sentences.

When the night has come And the land is dark And the moon is the only light we'll see, I won't be afraid Just as long as you stand by me -Ben E. King

Greetings. My name is Don Tillman and I am a suspected paedophile. I wish to put myself on standby for an assessment.

What one means by integrity, in the case of the novelist, is the conviction that he gives one that this is the truth. . . . When one so exposes it [integrity] and sees it come to life one exclaims in rapture, But this is what I have always felt and known and desired! And one boils over with excitement, and, shutting the book even with a kind of reverence as if it were something very precious, a stand-by to return to as long as one lives, one puts it back on the shelf.

If I'd known you'd look so beautiful, I would've gotten dressed up," Loki teased when Finn and Thomas brought him into the War Room. Finn shoved him into a seat unnecessarily hard,but Loki didn't protest. "Don't get familiar with the Princess, Duncant told him,giving him a stony look. "My apologies," Loki said. "I wouldn't want to get familiar with anyone." Loki looked about the room. Duncan, Finn, Thomas, Tove,the Chancellor, and I were the ones set to meet Sara. The rest of the house was on standby, should we need them,but we didn't want to look like we were ambushing Sara when she arrived. "Did you change your mind and decide to execute me?" Loki asked,looking us over. "Because you all look like you're going to a funeral." "Not now," I said, fidgeting with my bracelet and watching the clock. "Then when,Princess?" Loki asked. "Because we only have about fifteen minutes until I leave." I rolled my eyes and ignored him.

Everyone had their levers. Often it was greed. Greed was a reliable old standby. Sometimes it was pride. That was Groat’s lever. He desperately wanted promotion; you could see it in his eyes. Find the lever, and then it was plain sailing.

So she was always in the middle of at least one book and felt safe only if she had several more on standby.

YOU ARE JUST You are not just for the right or left, but for what is right over the wrong. You are not just rich or poor, but always wealthy in the mind and heart. You are not perfect, but flawed. You are flawed, but you are just. You may just be conscious human, but you are also a magnificent reflection of God.

Let me just say this right now, in case there’s any confusion in 2016: If you’re a white person and you have references on standby to verify that you’re allowed to say the N-word, you are probably the last person on planet Earth who should be saying nigga.

Imagine you are Siri Keeton: You wake in an agony of resurrection, gasping after a record-shattering bout of sleep apnea spanning one hundred forty days. You can feel your blood, syrupy with dobutamine and leuenkephalin, forcing its way through arteries shriveled by months on standby. The body inflates in painful increments: blood vessels dilate; flesh peels apart from flesh; ribs crack in your ears with sudden unaccustomed flexion. Your joints have seized up through disuse. You're a stick-man, frozen in some perverse rigor vitae. You'd scream if you had the breath. Vampires did this all the time, you remember. It was normal for them, it was their own unique take on resource conservation. They could have taught your kind a few things about restraint, if that absurd aversion to right-angles hadn't done them in at the dawn of civilization. Maybe they still can. They're back now, after all— raised from the grave with the voodoo of paleogenetics, stitched together from junk genes and fossil marrow steeped in the blood of sociopaths and high-functioning autistics. One of them commands this very mission. A handful of his genes live on in your own body so it too can rise from the dead, here at the edge of interstellar space. Nobody gets past Jupiter without becoming part vampire.

I felt something switch off in my brain at that moment, as if I was suddenly on standby, not able to function at full capacity. I later learned that this is called disassociation. When your brain disconnects to protect you from stress or trauma.

Lennart sits next to her, waiting for the coffee. Meanwhile he sips from a Thermos he has brought with him. It’s important to Lennart to have stand-by coffee available while he’s waiting for the new coffee.

One holds every phrase, every scene to the light as one reads - for Nature seems, very oddly, to have provided us with an inner light by which to judge of the novelist’s integrity or disintegrity. Or perhaps it is rather that Nature, in her most irrational mood, has traced in invisible ink on the walls of the mind a premonition which these great artists confirm; a sketch which only needs to be held to the fire of genius to become visible. When one so exposes it and sees it come to life one exclaims in rapture, But this is what I have always felt and known and desired! And one boils over with excitement, and, shutting the book even with a kind of reverence as if it were something very precious, a stand-by to return to as long as one lives, one puts it back on the shelf […].

Can I make the guns green?” came his muffled voice. “Yes, on standby,” said his long–‌suffering mother. “Don't shoot unless I say so. If you start another galactic war you will be grounded until the heat death of the universe.

However, I am telling you nothing but the truth when I say it is profitable (good, expedient, advantageous) for you that I go away. Because if I do not go away, the Comforter (Counselor, Helper, Advocate, Intercessor, Strengthener, Standby) will not come to you [into close fellowship with you]; but if I go away, I will send Him to you [to be in close fellowship with you]. And when He comes, He will convict and convince the world and bring demonstration to it about sin and about righteousness (uprightness of heart and right standing with God) and about judgment. John 16:7,8

I told my plan to Fritz once, and he said it was just what he would like, and agreed to try it when we got rich. Bless his dear heart, he's been doing it all his life—helping poor boys, I mean, not getting rich, that he'll never be. Money doesn't stay in his pocket long enough to lay up any. But now, thanks to my good old aunt, who loved me better than I ever deserved, I'm rich, at least I feel so, and we can live at Plumfield perfectly well, if we have a flourishing school. It's just the place for boys, the house is big, and the furniture strong and plain. There's plenty of room for dozens inside, and splendid grounds outside. They could help in the garden and orchard. Such work is healthy, isn't it, sir? Then Fritz could train and teach in his own way, and Father will help him. I can feed and nurse and pet and scold them, and Mother will be my stand-by. I've always longed for lots of boys, and never had enough, now I can fill the house full and revel in the little dears to my heart's content. Think what luxury— Plumfield my own, and a wilderness of boys to enjoy it with me.

We are a breed of spoilers!’ thought Jolyon, ‘close and greedy; the bloom of life is not safe with us. Let her come to me as she will, when she will, not at all if she will not. Let me be just her stand-by, her perching-place; never-never her cage!

It is the mind’s job to protect and take care of you, to solve your problems and make sure you’re safe. So, if you feel a surge of emotional upset, it moves into action, trying to help, looking for the source of the upset—for the problems—and generating solutions. Under these conditions, the key to getting the mind to go on standby—to stilling the mind’s compulsive thinking—lies in recognizing, accepting, and working with the emotional upset. Once you address the emotional undercurrent, once it is no longer churning inside you, the mind can switch off and quite literally leave you in peace.

I haven’t got a clue what this lot’s supposed to mean,” he said, staring down at a long list of calculations. “You know,” said Ron, whose hair was on end because of all the times he had run his fingers through it in frustration, “I think it’s back to the old Divination standby.” “What — make it up?” “Yeah,” said Ron, sweeping the jumble of scrawled notes off the table, dipping his pen into some ink, and starting to write. “Next Monday,” he said as he scribbled, “I am likely to develop a cough, owing to the unlucky conjunction of Mars and Jupiter.” He looked up at Harry. “You know her — just put in loads of misery, she’ll lap it up.” “Right,” said Harry, crumpling up his first attempt and lobbing it over the heads of a group of chattering first years into the fire. “Okay … on Monday, I will be in danger of — er — burns.” “Yeah, you will be,” said Ron darkly, “we’re seeing the skrewts again on Monday. Okay, Tuesday, I’ll … erm …” “Lose a treasured possession,” said Harry, who was flicking through Unfogging the Future for ideas. “Good one,” said Ron, copying it down. “Because of … erm … Mercury. Why don’t you get stabbed in the back by someone you thought was a friend?” “Yeah … cool …” said Harry, scribbling it down, “because … Venus is in the twelfth house.” “And on Wednesday, I think I’ll come off worst in a fight.” “Aaah, I was going to have a fight. Okay, I’ll lose a bet.” “Yeah, you’ll be betting I’ll win my fight.

A couple of droids idled, duties completed, lost in electronic standby dreams.

The most efficient brains, he found, were those that could solve a task quickly and then go into a kind of standby mode.

What was one to do, thought Adela, with someone who didn't talk gardening or dogs - those standbys of rural conversation.

Stand-by morale, based on fear as in prisons, may disintegrate at the least sign of weakness in leader or guard, or when the individuals have not as yet been sufficiently disciplined.

Select a healthy standby snack today. Carry it with you wherever you go. ​Make every meal last at least 20 minutes. ​Exercise in the morning for a better mood and more brainpower all day.

IMAGINE YOU ARE Siri Keeton. You wake in an agony of resurrection, gasping after a record-shattering bout of sleep apnea spanning one hundred forty days. You can feel your blood, syrupy with dobutamine and leuenkephalin, forcing its way through arteries shriveled by months on standby. The body inflates in painful increments: blood vessels dilate, flesh peels apart from flesh, ribs crack in your ears with sudden unaccustomed flexion. Your joints have seized up through disuse. You’re a stick man, frozen in some perverse rigor vitae. You’d scream if you had the breath.

A problem is only insoluble to the sufferer; to others, it may have a comic or exasperating simplicity. It occurred to me that at this juncture I had become locked in, like one of my wretched patients for whom the moment for an easy solution has passed. I couldn’t go forward in my life – whatever remained of it – until I had a better understanding of what was past. This was the ‘hard work’ that as a young therapist I had glibly recommended to my patients; but for me it seemed better to turn to the old standbys: denial, sensual pleasure or a change of subject – to Newton, or Matthew Arnold.

How to Survive Racism in an Organization that Claims to be Antiracist: 10. Ask why they want you. Get as much clarity as possible on what the organization has read about you, what they understand about you, what they assume are your gifts and strengths. What does the organization hope you will bring to the table? Do those answers align with your reasons for wanting to be at the table? 9. Define your terms. You and the organization may have different definitions of words like "justice", "diveristy", or "antiracism". Ask for definitions, examples, or success stories to give you a better idea of how the organization understands and embodies these words. Also ask about who is in charge and who is held accountable for these efforts. Then ask yourself if you can work within the structure. 8. Hold the organization to the highest vision they committed to for as long as you can. Be ready to move if the leaders aren't prepared to pursue their own stated vision. 7. Find your people. If you are going to push back against the system or push leadership forward, it's wise not to do so alone. Build or join an antiracist cohort within the organization. 6. Have mentors and counselors on standby. Don't just choose a really good friend or a parent when seeking advice. It's important to have on or two mentors who can give advice based on their personal knowledge of the organization and its leaders. You want someone who can help you navigate the particular politics of your organization. 5. Practice self-care. Remember that you are a whole person, not a mule to carry the racial sins of the organization. Fall in love, take your children to the park, don't miss doctors' visits, read for pleasure, dance with abandon, have lots of good sex, be gentle with yourself. 4. Find donors who will contribute to the cause. Who's willing to keep the class funded, the diversity positions going, the social justice center operating? It's important for the organization to know the members of your cohort aren't the only ones who care. Demonstrate that there are stakeholders, congregations members, and donors who want to see real change. 3. Know your rights. There are some racist things that are just mean, but others are against the law. Know the difference, and keep records of it all. 2. Speak. Of course, context matters. You must be strategic about when, how, to whom, and about which situations you decide to call out. But speak. Find your voice and use it. 1. Remember: You are a creative being who is capable of making change. But it is not your responsibility to transform an entire organization.

Don’t worry about anything . . .” he said aloud, quoting his all-time standby verse in the fourth chapter of Philippians, “but in everything, by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving, make your requests known unto God, and the peace that passes all understanding will fill your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.

Given my swimmingly fetching cultural milieu, getting used to this bleeding business took quite a while. In the meantime, I fervently asked people why the hell this happened to us girls. Various sources consistently informed me that it was (big sigh) “just part of being a woman” (big sigh), or the good ol’ standby curse we inherited from Eve.

And now here we are together, in Chicago, two travelers, one.

Leave the roses that wilt with time - Give me words that live forever

We heard you were bringing in precious cargo," Ben said to Lorcan. "Amelia needs Quinn, and Keelan... I don't think anything can be done for him. But I promised Aiden we'd try," Lorcan said. The blond pulled out a walkie-talkie. "Gamma Kitten One, this is Adonis, have Foxy Boy on standby to receive Big Sister-Cousin, over." "I really fucking hate that you got Adonis and I got Gamma Kitten One!" a male voice complained. "Take it up with management," the blond said flippantly. "Over and out." "Ben, who's Foxy Boy?" Lorcan asked as they ran. "Quinn, that's the name Meryn gave him because his last name Foxglove." "Gods, I can't imagine the call sign she's given me," Lorcan said. "Lorelei," Ben said with a grin. Lorcan grimaced. "I had to ask.

Ever since its release at the height of the DTP age, Adobe Caslon has been the “default” serif for many designers. In fact, the original metal type was also a printer’s standby for many years, as evidenced by the expression “when in doubt, use Caslon.” The typeface is now so familiar, it simply feels right most of the time — though it could seem slightly antique for some settings.

it is scarcely necessary to say much, as the foregoing advice applies to them. One militiaman exclaimed to another, "Jim, you hain't in step" "Bain't I?" exclaimed the other; "well, change yourn!

Sorrow comes with so many defense mechanisms. You have your shock, your denial, your getting wasted, your cracking jokes, and your religion. You also have the old standby catchall--the blind belief in fate, the whole "things happening for a reason" drill. But my personal favorite defense has always been anger, with its trusty offshoots of self-righteous indignation, bitterness, and resentment.

Here are some other great standbys that I use in almost every negotiation, depending on the situation: ■​What about this is important to you? ■​How can I help to make this better for us? ■​How would you like me to proceed? ■​What is it that brought us into this situation? ■​How can we solve this problem? ■​What’s the objective? / What are we trying to accomplish here? ■​How am I supposed to do that?

Today there is a movement to require any device to use less than half a watt in standby mode. It’s the power that keeps your television tuner, or microwave oven, or coffeemaker’s clock running. With billions of appliances, we can easily waste hundreds of billions of watt-hours. This is sometimes called the “no-load” power loss or, what I prefer, the “vampire” loss. Each plugged-in plug has two prongs that are like the fangs of a vampire, sucking our electrical life’s blood out of us all. Bah, ha, ha, ha, ha … It seems like an important problem to address, and we have, to some extent. Having vampires suck half a watt instead of 10 or 15 watts represents great progress. Nevertheless, how about if it were a tenth of that half? We could have billions of kilowatt-hours available to us for free, without any other decisions about nuclear plants or wind-turbine sites.

Now that you are living on such intimate terms with her, Gwyn has emerged as a slightly different person... She is both funnier and more salacious than you imagined, more vulgar and idiosyncratic, more passionate, more playful, and you are startled to realize how deeply she exults in filthy language and the bizarre slang of sex... Common twentieth-century words do not interest her. She shuns the term making love, for example, in favor of older, more hilarious locutions, such as rumpty-rumpty, quaffing, and bonker bang. A good orgasm is referred to as a bone-shaker. Her ass is a rumdadum. Her crotch is a slittie, a quim, a quim-box, a quimsby. Her breasts are boobs and tits, boobies and titties, her twin girls. At one time or another, your penis is a bong, a blade, a slurp, a shaft, a drill, a quencher, a lancelot, a lightning rod, Charles Dickens, Dick Driver, and Adam Junior... In the grip of approaching orgasm, however, she tends to revert to the contemporary standbys, falling back on the simplest, crudest words in the English lexicon to express her feelings. Cunt, pussy, fuck. Fuck me, Adam. Again and again. Fuck me, Adam. For an entire month you are the captive of that word, the willing prisoner of that word, the embodiment of that word. You dwell in the land of flesh, and your cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow you all the days of your life.

And while they walked Jolyon pondered those words: 'I hope you'll treat him as you treated me.' That would depend on himself. Could he trust himself? Did nature permit a Forsyte not to make a slave of what he adored? Could beauty be confided to him? Or should she not just be a visitor, coming when she would, possessed for moments which passed, to return only at her own choosing? 'We are a breed of spoilers!' thought Jolyon, 'close and greedy; the bloom of life is not safe with us. Let her come to me as she will, when she will, not at all if she will not. Let me be just her stand-by, her perching-place; never her cage!

Oh shit, I’m sorry,” Brent said. He never knew what to say when someone mentioned death. And he always felt like “sorry” was one of the worst things you could say. It was so ... trite. Yet, he could never think of anything better. He’d tried other phrases, like “sorry for your loss,” but that felt like a cheesy cop show line, even if it was slightly better than “sorry.” If he were being honest, he’d simply say, “that sucks,” because death truly did exactly that. But “that sucks” seemed almost flippant. So, he always fell to the old uncomfortable standby, “I’m sorry.” “It’s okay,” Luis said. And they always say that, too. ‘It’s okay.’ No, it’s NOT okay. It’s never fucking okay. “I

My intention all along had been to get my wakeboarding legs back this first day. Maybe I'd do tricks when we went out the next day. I didn't want to get too cocky and bust ass in front of Sean. But as I got more comfortable and forgot to care, I tried a few standbys-a front flip, a scarecrow. There was no busting of ass. So I tried a backroll. And landed it solidly. Now I got cocky. I did a heelside backroll with a nosegrab. This meant that in the middle of the flip, I let go of the rope handle with one hand, reached down, and grabbed the front of the board. It served no purpose in the trick except to look impressive, like, This only appears to be a difficult trick. I have all the time in the world. I will grab the board. Yawn. And I landed it. This was getting too good to be true. My brother swung the boat around just before we reached the graffiti-covered highway bridge that spanned the lake. Cameron had spray-painted his name and his girlfriend’s name on the bridge, alongside all the other couples’ names and over the faded ones. My genius brother had tried to paint his own name but ran out of room on that section of bridge. McGULLICUDD Y Sean wisely never painted his girlfriends’ names. He would have had to change them too often. For my part, I was very thankful that when most of this spray-painting action was going on last summer, I was still too short to reach over from the pile and haul myself up on the main part of the bridge. I probably had the height and the upper body strength now, and I prayed none of the boys pointed this out. Then I’d have to spray-paint LORI LOVES SEAN on the bridge. And move to Canada.

I hit you. Won’t that make you go away? What else can I do?” he snarled. He’d fallen back on his old standby, anger. “I’m not going away, Cole, so maybe we can cut out the assaults in the future. You don’t want me to go away. I know that. You love me, Cole. That’s the feeling that makes you so angry.” She’d sighed and looked at the ceiling. “You don’t know what to do with it, because the people you’ve loved in the past caused you pain. That’s what you think love is. Pain.” She’d looked at his face until he met her eyes. They were still green. “But, Cole, I love you. Have I hurt you? Ever?” Cole had to shake his head. She hadn’t. Not once. “I’m showing you what to do with love, Cole.” She stood and held out her arms. A hug. A simple hug he didn’t have to earn by throwing a chair. Human contact that wasn’t required because he was trying to hurt someone. She still trusted him. She still saw something in him.

Eriku opens the door. Momo-chan drops from the car and lumbers forward. And oh my God, she is so cute I could die. Tamagotchi breaks from the leash and rushes toward her. I close my eyes. I should have put the imperial vet on standby. But then... it's quiet. I pop open an eye, then the other, ready to see carnage. Tamagotchi has rolled onto his back, and Momo-chan is sniffing his belly. Her thick tongue darts out, and she licks him. Licks him. Tamagotchi shudders, his body convulsing in what I can only describe as pure ecstasy. "Well, now I've seen it all," Reina says, then wanders off. Eriku smiles. "I think they like each other." What an understatement. Momo-chan collapses onto the ground, and Tamagotchi curls up next to her. "I have mentally and emotionally subscribed to Momo-chan's fan club," I say, walking toward the dogs. Momo-chan rolls to her side. Tamagotchi adjusts too, lying in between her legs, his back curved against her belly. Just so many wishes fulfilled in one magical moment. I always thought I was a one dog kind of woman, but Tamagotchi and Momo-chan----sign me the eff up.

Captain Sergei Volodin was an Air Force helicopter pilot who often flew a specially equipped Mi-8 transport helicopter around Ukraine. The aircraft was fitted with a dosimeter that Captain Volodin had used in the past to test radiation levels around Chernobyl out of his own personal curiosity. Prior to the 26th it had never even flickered. On the night of the accident, he and his crew were on standby for the Emergency Rescue shift covering the wider Kiev area, making his the first aircraft to arrive on the scene. As he flew around Pripyat, an Army Major in the rear measured radiation from a personal dosimeter. Neither wore any protective clothing. Volodin’s equipment went haywire as he cycled through its measurement ranges: 10, 100, 250, 500 roentgens. All were off the scale. “Above 500, the equipment - and human beings - aren’t supposed to work,” he remembers. Just as he was seeing his own readings, the Major burst into the cockpit screaming, “You murderer! You’ve killed us all!” The air was emitting 1,500 roentgens-per-hour. “We’d taken such a high dose,” the pilot says, “he thought we were already dead.”161

Many and various are the New York tales that are told of professor Sidney Morgenbesser. During a conference of linguistic philosophers at Columbia University, he interrupted the pompous J. L. Austin, who was saying that while many double negatives express a positive—as in “not unattractive”—there is no example in English of a double positive expressing a negative. Morgenbesser’s interjection took the form of the two words “Yeah, yeah.” Or it could have been “Yeah, right.” On another occasion, he put his pipe in his mouth as he was ascending the subway steps. A policeman approached and told him that there was no smoking on the subway. Morgenbesser explained—pointed out might be a better term—that he was leaving the subway, not entering it, and had not yet lit up. The cop repeated his injunction. Morgenbesser reiterated his observation. After a few such exchanges, the cop saw he was beaten and fell back on the oldest standby of enfeebled authority: “If I let you do it, I’d have to let everyone do it.” To this the old philosopher replied, “Who do you think you are—Kant?” His last word was misconstrued, and the whole question of the categorical imperative had to be hashed out down at the precinct house. Morgenbesser walked. That, in my opinion, is the way that New York is supposed to be. Irony and a bit of sass, combined with a pugnacious independence, should always stand a chance against bovine officials who have barely learned to memorize such demanding mantras as “zero tolerance” and “no exceptions.” Today, the professor would be stopped, insulted, ticketed, and told that if he didn’t like it he could waste a day in court, or several days dealing with the bureaucracy, or both.

ROASTED BEET AND QUINOA SALAD When beets are bad, they are really fucking gross. But roasted, these mother fuckers get sweet and delicious. Trust. MAKES ENOUGH FOR 4 AS A SIDE DRESSING 1 shallot or small onion, diced (about 2 tablespoons) 1 teaspoon Dijon mustard 3 tablespoons white wine, balsamic, or champagne vinegar ¼ cup olive oil SALAD 3 medium beets, peeled and chopped into small chunks (about 1½ cups) 1 teaspoon of whatever vinegar you used for the dressing 2 teaspoons olive oil Salt and ground pepper 2 cups water 1 cup quinoa, rinsed 1 cup kale, stems removed, sliced into thin strips ¼ cup diced fresh herbs* 1 Crank your oven to 400°F. Grab a rimmed baking sheet and have it on standby. 2 Make the dressing: Pour all the ingredients together in a jar and shake that shit up. 3 For the salad: In a medium bowl, toss the beets together with the vinegar, olive oil, and a pinch of salt. Your hands might get kinda red and bloody looking from the beets. Don’t worry about that shit; it will wash off, so quit complaining. Pour the mixture onto the baking sheet and roast for 20 minutes, stirring the beets halfway through. 4 While the beets roast up, bring the water to a boil in a medium pot. Add the quinoa. Once that shit starts boiling again, cover, and adjust the heat to low. Cook the quinoa at a slow simmer until it is tender, about 15 minutes. Just taste it and you’ll figure that shit out. Drain any extra water that remains in the pot and scoop the quinoa into a medium bowl. Fold the kale into the hot quinoa and then add the dressing. Add the fresh herb of your choice and mix well. 5 When the beets are done, fold those ruby red bitches right in to the quinoa. Add salt and pepper to taste. Serve this salad at room temperature or refrigerate until cold. * Dill, basil, and parsley all work well here. Use whichever of those you’ve got hanging out in the fridge

Fuck,' I said after a while, because like a little black dress it's the old standby.

If you’re a white person and you have references on standby to verify that you’re allowed to say the N-word, you are probably the last person on planet Earth who should be saying nigga.

Daniel.” “Ma.” “Are you well?” She was angry. If the straight-to-voicemail treatment for the last week hadn’t tipped me off, her tone now was a dead giveaway. “I’m great,” I lied. “And how are you?” “Fine.” I laughed, silently. If she heard me laugh, she’d have my balls. “Did you get my messages?” “Yes. Thank you for calling.” I waited for a minute, for her to say more. She didn’t. “I leave you twenty-one messages, three calls a day, and that’s all you got for me?” “I’m not going to apologize for needing some time to cool off and I’m not going to sugarcoat it. Who do you think I am? Willy Wonka? You missed my birthday.” She sniffed. And these weren’t crocodile tears either. I’d hurt her feelings. Ahh, there it is. The acrid taste of guilt. “Ma . . .” “I don’t ask for a lot. I love you. I love my children. I want you to call me on my birthday.” “I know.” I was clutching my chest so my heart didn’t fall out and bleed all over the grass. “What could have been so important that you couldn’t spare a few minutes for your mother? I was so worried.” “I did call you—” “Don’t shit on a plate and tell me it’s fudge, Daniel. You called after midnight.” I hadn’t come up with a plausible lie for why I hadn’t called on her birthday, because I wasn’t a liar. I hated lying. Premeditated lying, coming up with a story ahead of time, crafting it, was Seamus’s game. If I absolutely had to lie, I subscribed to spur-of-the-moment lying; it made me less of a soulless maggot. “That’s true, Ma. But I swear I—” “Don’t you fucking swear, Daniel. Don’t you fucking do that. I raised you kids better.” “Sorry, sorry.” “What was so important, huh?” She heaved a watery sigh. “I thought you were in a ditch, dying somewhere. I had Father Matthew on standby to give you your last rights. Was your phone broken?” “No.” “Did you forget?” Her voice broke on the last word and it was like being stabbed. The worst. “No, I sw—ah, I mean, I didn’t forget.” Lie. Lying lie. Lying liar. “Then what?” I grimaced, shutting my eyes, taking a deep breath and said, “I’m married.” Silence. Complete fucking silence. I thought maybe she wasn’t even breathing. Meanwhile, in my brain: Oh. Shit. What. The. Fuck. Have. I. Done. . . . However. However, on the other hand, I was married. I am married. Not a lie. Yeah, we hadn’t had the ceremony yet, but the paperwork was filed, and legally speaking, Kat and I were married. I listened as my mom took a breath, said nothing, and then took another. “Are you pulling my leg with this?” On the plus side, she didn’t sound sad anymore. “No, no. I promise. I’m married. I—uh—was getting married.” “Wait a minute, you got married on my birthday?” Uh . . . “Uh . . .” “Daniel?” “No. We didn’t get married on your birthday.” Shit. Fuck. “We’ve been married for a month, and Kat had an emergency on Wednesday.” Technically, not lies. “That’s her name? Cat?” “Kathleen. Her name is Kathleen.” “Like your great aunt Kathleen?” Kat wasn’t a thing like my great aunt. “Yeah, the name is spelled the same.” “Last month? You got married last month?” She sounded bewildered, like she was having trouble keeping up. “Is she—is she Irish?” “No.” “Oh. That’s okay. Catholic?” Oh jeez, I really hadn’t thought this through. Maybe it was time for me to reconsider my spur-of-the-moment approach to lying and just surrender to being a soulless maggot. “No. She’s not Catholic.” “Oh.” My mom didn’t sound disappointed, just a little surprised and maybe a little worried. “Daniel, I—you were married last month and I’m only hearing about it now? How long have you known this woman?” I winced. “Two and a half years.” “Two and a half years?” she screeched...

I committed the emergency procedures to memory as I’d been told to. If the instructor asked me what I would do if I lost an engine on the T-34, I could tell him, “Put the PCL idle, T-handle down clip in place, standby fuel pump on, starter on, monitor N1 and ITT for start indications, starter off when ITT peaks or no indication of start.” I haven’t flown the T-34 for nearly thirty years, and I only flew it a total of seventy hours, but I can still rattle this off without thinking. I could still recover from the loss of an engine, or a range of other emergencies, in that plane.

With the sound of three short blasts on the ship’s whistle, we backed away from the pier. This ship was unlike most ships and we all noticed a definite difference in her sounds and vibrations. At that time, most American vessels were driven by steam propulsion that relied on superheating the water. The reciprocating steam engines, with their large pistons, were the loudest as they hissed and wheezed, turning a huge crankshaft. Steam turbines were relatively vibration free, but live steam was always visible as it powered the many pumps, winches, etc. Steam is powerful and efficient, but can be dangerous and even deadly. Diesel engines were seldom used on the larger American ships of that era, and were not considered cost or energy efficient. The Empire State was a relatively quiet ship since she only used steam power to drive the turbines, which then spun the generators that made the electricity needed to energize the powerful electric motors, which were directly geared to turn the propeller shafts. All in all, the ship was nearly vibration free, making for a smooth ride. We all had our sea projects to do and although they were not difficult, they were time consuming and thought of as a pain in the azz. The best time to work on these projects was while standing our make-work, lifeboat watches. One of the ship’s lifeboats was always on standby, hanging over the side from its davits. Day and night, we would be ready to launch this boat if somebody fell overboard. Fortunately, this never happened, so with little else to do we had plenty of time to do our projects.

Here are some other great standbys that I use in almost every negotiation, depending on the situation: What about this is important to you? How can I help to make this better for us? How would you like me to proceed? What is it that brought us into this situation? How can we solve this problem? What’s the objective? / What are we trying to accomplish here? How am I supposed to do that?

Claire lunged toward her desk. She opened the drawer. Lydia’s file was still hidden inside. Claire’s relief was so pronounced that she wanted to cry. She touched her fingers to her cheek. She was crying. Her tear ducts were on constant standby for anything that would send them over. Instead of giving in to it, Claire shut the drawer. She wiped her eyes. She stood up. She straightened her shirt as she made her way to the kitchen.

Faith has the capacity to wipe away all forms of weeping and to deal with tuberculosis symptoms, obsession, depression, heart-attack and to set free those that are condemned to life imprisonment in the standby prisons

Red Wine Pot Roast I cracked the pot roast code years and years ago, and I’m so very, very glad I did. Once you master the (very simple but initially elusive) steps to the perfect pot roast, a whole world of comfort and goodness opens up. I have a standby pot roast that has never left my side since I first started making it, and this is its crazy, full-of-life, drunk-on-red-wine first cousin. (A first cousin who brings along a jar of orange marmalade and a bag of root vegetables whenever he visits, by the way. You’ll see what I mean here in a second.) This is a tremendously rich and delightful pot roast, and you’ll make it again and again.

And on my judgment day i will say in my defence that at least i didn't stand-by at the face of injustice

Regulations governing the sending of distress signals at sea are strict: no SOS can be sent without the express order of the captain. But the rules also allow an operator some leeway. It would have been proper for Rogers to have sent a message such as “Fire on Morro Castle off New Jersey. Awaiting orders from bridge.” Such a message would have alerted the outside world. No one could later have criticized such a course of action, confirming the Luckenbach’s sighting a serious fire through ten miles of rain. While it was not a formal SOS, it would nevertheless have been a standby call for help. And the time to send it was now. At 3:15 a.m. the mandatory “listening-out” period for all radio operators at sea began. Instead of a distress signal, Rogers sent: “Standby. DE KGOV.” KGOV was the call sign of the Morro Castle.

My standbys include the extra-virgin oils from Seka Hills, Katz, and California Olive Ranch. Another good everyday oil is the Kirkland Signature Organic Extra Virgin Oil from Costco,

Delta Airlines Customer Service Phone Number-+1-855-653-5006 Delta Airlines Customer Service Phone Number You can start earning today by becoming a Free Member, creating an account is quick, easy, and of course free. Airlines Free adds up really fast and what's more, even your pets can earn points while traveling with you. You can also extend your points with cash and enjoy other enhanced benefits like free Shortcut boarding, seat upgrades, or free same-day standby. In case you are not enrolled with Airlines Free to earn reward flights you can pool your points for free Spirit points with family members or up to 8 friends. All Airlines flights have been equipped with state of art technology, modern seats, and some of the best flight services. You can enjoy a wide range of snacks, alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages, coffee by using your debit and credit card. Airlines Flight services also include special assistance for passengers with special needs like wheelchairs, special assistance during airport check-in. Other Airlines Flight include services for expectant mothers, differently-abled personals, parents of unaccompanied children, handicaps, etc. To learn about these services, you can start dialing Airlines' special assistance number.

Explaining to the person behind the counter "I don't have a trash can" became my standby tactic.

the pacemaker out, we have to cut the leads to the heart, and the bloody thing interprets this as the heart stopping, so we get the shock. Some mortuary staff have been severely injured. The cardiac technicians have to come over and wave a special wand over them to switch them off, and if this is not picked up on and the leads are cut, you may need an ambulance on stand-by. Telling which are the ordinary ones and which are the lethal ones

Sophie stared at the crouched horse. "What if I fall?" "We have Elwin on standby." "Very funny.

Peace found me in a wordless embrace - in the rising of autumn sun, and the sound of turning pages

Here is your own personal door to the largest bookstore in the world. In it is every book in every edition for every genre. And you will also get paid paid for each book you read (plus a bonus for reviewing it). If you have any questions, here are the authors' contact info. Oh, and don't worry about the kids—we have complimentary nannies and housekeepers on standby." (Heather VanDyne)

One of the speechless situations is when the people you admire, people you follow, people you look forward to standby you and support you, people you are dedicated towards and people whom you consider self made and respectable, stand helpless in front of you when others cut you into pieces. They keep standing, they fumble, they are helpless. And you're just disappointed

lo spiego: quando la vita di coppia mi chiama a fare un gesto adulto (decidere, intraprendere, definire), cado subito in un compiaciuto standby e compio una sequela di azioni maldestre e contraddittorie la cui risultante, in un tempo estenuato, è che quel gesto alla fine accade, trascinandomi con sé. Io perciò non agisco. Al massimo ripiego, compenso, implodo, piango, mi ammalo, guaisco, manipolo, attendo, contorco, spengo, ovatto, rimando, taccio, disoriento, ometto, intorto, sfuoco, distolgo, evito, confondo, svio, logoro, alterno, sfumo, canticchio, sbuffo. E’ questo il mio modo di affrontare la realtà. E non è che non m’impegno. Anzi, spesso do tutto me stesso, ma le mie azioni si servono di questi verbi, e il risultato è quel che si vede.

Prospective data indicates that the CRP is a better predictor of cardiovascular risk than a low-density lipoprotein (LDL) cholesterol, the standby predictor of cardiovascular disease. The CRP advantage is that “inflammation,” (but not the elevated LDL) is associated with the components of the metabolic syndrome. CRP levels are not only demonstrated with “inflammation” of cardiovascular disease, but also with triglycerides, obesity, elevated blood pressure, and elevated fasting blood glucose. In addition, CRP also correlates with endothelial dysfunction, impaired fibrinolysis, and most importantly, insulin resistance, which is hyperinsulinemia, type 2 diabetes. I ask you, the reader, to please note that the clinical conditions associated with CRP, especially its application for cardiovascular disease, is the pathology of insulin resistance, hyperinsulinemia, type 2 diabetes. Please see Chapter 14, Pathology of Type 2 Diabetes.

Part of what makes credit cards work is that they simplify transactions for both buyers and sellers. Concentrating on just a few cards further simplifies matters on both sides of the market. Thus ever since the big shakeout, no new credit cards have joined the ranks of the majors; the barrier to market entry has proved to be too great. That said, in recent years the Internet revolution has opened the door to competition from wholly new directions—including new kinds of payment services, such as PayPal; an international network of automatic teller machines to challenge old standbys such as traveler’s checks; and maybe even new types of “virtual money” such as Bitcoin. As I write this in 2014, Apple has announced a new payment system on the latest iPhones, and we can reasonably expect that it and/or other new payment systems that make use of mobile devices will become commonplace.

Mastered lawyer drunk driving Low energy consumption is a legal offense contributed to. Yourself in your car yourself, your motivation is both drunk and high, legislators were arrested. Immediately, even if swallowed or drugs control objects will be on standby to receive official guide to recognize. Beverage is drunk in the car, you have a DUI, and a person can be arrested after giving back the screen seems to have in your account. On its own, perhaps you package your position towards the direction of history experts to see their own drunk driving laws. You have a job, so it s an individual fashion experts correctly arrested and drugs leads to the prohibition of alcohol, you can count on to symbolize the imprisonment of offenders. DUI attorney activity, of course, left processed Depending on the circumstances of the mother, yet can be challenging, it seems less complicated. Genuine opportunities towards the direction of the state s largest population of collateral to meet the effects of crime lawyer. Faith, the license stopped, well, it s prison, meaning it is possible. His lawyer, conditions or proof of common sense dilemma for filing in the direction of small retail and phrases can contribute. It is perhaps as a result of a beverage production when assessing the validity of the law on the application will be able to guess. They also arrested over the implementation method is able to challenge. That is, in the direction of the thyroid, has been arrested by the security feature is expert in court incarcerated illegal acts that are affected are different. Experts Security Act, regulatory proceedings and litigation proceedings direction needs to include a comprehensive practical experience. In some cases, likely to be able to identify crime suspects personal consultant. You in the direction of the shell can not pay a lawyer to prison, but in different situations, legal documents, expert internal 1. The most simple laws of the city, the cheaper the price it is not possible to obtain, some, Most pay $ 200, from them, while the money. Counsel further in the direction of a person with the effect is related to a clear penalty. This transformation actually recorded during the experiment on their own, depending on the direction is probably to show what has been done. Major customers fully understand the technical inner courtyard. These people are working for a few weeks of study; you can organize a series of public hearings. The long years you may be disappointed, upset. Criminal matter while showing visitors the direction services.

Loren hit the highway and picked up her cell phone. It was dead. She cursed the damn thing. The greatest lie—right up there with “the check is in the mail” and “your call is very important to us”—is the stated battery life of a cell phone. Hers was supposed to last a week on standby. She was lucky if the cursed thing gave her thirty-six hours. She

Setting Jesus as the standard for perfect theology, many of our current Christian beliefs and practices would obviously face indictment. Even significant swaths of biblical literature don’t line up well with the Christ of the Gospels. Claiming that God is revealed perfectly in Jesus triggers tough questions about the God I once conceived and preached. Jesus’ life and character challenges my religious clichés and standby slogans—especially the rhetoric of supreme power and irresistible force.

Hot Standby Router Protocol (HSRP) is a Cisco-proprietary First Hop Redundancy Protocol (FHRP). HSRP

The second he caught her scent, he stopped. “Leelan! Are you sure you should be up?” Turned out the smell of the food was one hell of a distraction: the spike of hunger she got in response enough to halt her in her tracks. “Ah . . . yeah, I feel okay. I’m hungry, actually.” As well as scared to death. While the staff continued on into the billiards room, filing in past some sheets of heavy plastic, Wrath came over to the base of the stairs. “Let’s get you into the kitchen.” Heading all the way down to join him, she let him take her arm, and leaned into his strength, taking a deep, easing breath. She’d probably just imagined everything up there. Really. Probably. Crap. “You know, I slept well,” she murmured as if to reassure herself. Which didn’t work. “Yeah?” “Mm-hm.” Together, they walked past the long dining table, and went through the flap door in the far corner. On the other side, iAm was once again at the stove, stirring a great pot. The Shadow turned—and immediately frowned as he looked at her. “What?” She put her hands to her stomach. “What are you—” “Nothing,” he said, banging his wooden spoon on the steel vat. “You two like chicken soup?” “Oh, yes, that sounds perfect.” Beth hopped up onto a stool. “And some bread maybe—” Fritz materialized at her elbow with a baguette and a plate with butter. “For you, madam.” She had to laugh. “How did you know?” As Wrath sat on the stool next to her, George parked it between them. “I had him on standby.” A steaming bowl of soup was slid in front of her by the Shadow. “Enjoy.” “Him, too?” she asked of iAm. “Yeah, the Shadow mighta been on it as well.” Picking up the spoon Fritz offered her, she dug in, aware the three males were staring at her—Wrath with such intensity, it was almost as if he’d gotten his sight back— “Mmmmm,” she said—and meant it. The soup was perfect, simple, not too heavy, and warm, warm, warm. Maybe it was just that she’d been through the needing and not eaten for how long? “So what’s going on in the billiards room,” she asked, to try to distract the males. “They’re cleaning up after me.” She winced. “Ah.” Wrath patted around for the baguette and broke off the hard end, putting it aside. The piece he then tore for her was soft in the middle, crunchy on the outside—and the butter he put on it was the unsalted, sweet kind. The combo was great with the soup. “Would you like something to drink?” Fritz asked. “Wine?” iAm said—before catching himself. “No, not wine. Milk. You need the calcium.” “Good idea, Shadow,” Wrath chimed in as he nodded at Fritz. “Make it whole—” “No, no, that will make me gag.” Annnnd didn’t that stop all of them in their tracks. “Which was true before all the, well, you know. But the skim does sound good.” And so it went, the three of them waiting on her: More soup? iAm hit her bowl again right away. More bread with butter? Husband was on it. More milk? The butler raced for the fridge.

It was the job of people like me to make up reasons, to spin a plausible yarn. And it’s amazing what people will believe. Heavy selling out of the Middle East was an old standby. Since no one ever had any clue what the Arabs were doing with their money or why, no story involving Arabs could ever be refuted. So if you didn’t know why the dollar was falling, you shouted out something about Arabs.

Anders took the phone, but his attention was on the computer on his lap. It had gone into standby mode. As he waited impatiently for it to start up again, he muttered, “I should have told her.” “Told who what?” Mortimer asked, distractedly. “Valerie, I should have told her I love her. But I figured she’d think it was too soon and—” He didn’t bother finishing.

You were born alone, you will die alone. People you meet in life get filtered by time. Some stay, some hurt, some standby, some teach. It depends upon you how much power do you give them to hurt you. Just think once.. the person you’re crying for really worth it if he/she made you cry?

*Always schedule enough time between connections. I always like to give myself at least two hours between flights. It’s much easier to sit in the terminal for three hours than it is to sit on standby for two days because you missed your connection.

A man who respects and honors his wife and women around him will receive a blessing from God, a divine approval that will prosper his life. But if he plays games with her heart, takes advantage of her love, and disregards her worth, he will invite a curse that will bring ruin to his life. For God is a defender of the oppressed, a champion of the marginalized, and a judge of the wicked. He will not standby when His daughters are mistreated, but will vindicate them with justice and mercy.

Matt answers on the second ring. I knew he’d be on standby. “Operation Alpha is a go” I say. “I’m assuming that means you want me to come get you guys?” “Just pretend we gave the plan a name!” “Fine! Alpha code received. Niner Niner.

Don’t give your heart to a poet - we see stories in a sentence and haunt you with our ink

Your kisses fell on me like sand through an hour glass - A thousand tiny moments, for an eternity of stillness

Mensah set up a watch schedule, including a time for me to go into standby and do a diagnostic and recharge cycle. I was also planning to use the time to watch some Sanctuary Moon and recharge my ability to cope with humans at close quarters without losing my mind."--Murderbot

It's like I have my very own standby mode and I can't do anything else until it's been turned off again; one phone call can wipe out an entire weekend.

the best way to get your counterparts to lower their demands is to say “No” using “How” questions. These indirect ways of saying “No” won’t shut down your counterpart the way a blunt, pride-piercing “No” would. In fact, these responses will sound so much like counterbids that your counterparts will often keep bidding against themselves. We’ve found that you can usually express “No” four times before actually saying the word. The first step in the “No” series is the old standby: “How am I supposed to do that?” You have to deliver it in a deferential way, so it becomes a request for help.

How can the United States, supposedly a world leader in human rights, justify firebombing Tokyo and the saturation bombing of Dresden near the conclusion of World War II? Why does the slogan an eye for an eye always trump the mantra of turn the other cheek? Why does the cry for revenge always ring louder than the plea for peace? How can the League of Nations idly standby for decades why merchants of greed cleared the rainforest, polluted the skies and streams, and decimated species after species of plants, animals, and sea life? If human beings are inherently kind and God serves as a symbol of human being’s charitable impulse, there would be no warfare.

What the Allies didn’t know at the time was that the previous day at noon, the GDR’s minister of defense Heinz Keßler had declared a state of emergency for the NVA and that as a result thirty thousand troops were now on standby, which included the Felix Dzerzhinsky Guards Regiment. This was an elite Stasi-run, motorized formation

Having a strict chain of command blocks ideas and innovation. Not every idea should be a no. It should be on standby.

Like you saw Aaron and Julie do with their kidnappers, the best way to get your counterparts to lower their demands is to say “No” using “How” questions. These indirect ways of saying “No” won’t shut down your counterpart the way a blunt, pride-piercing “No” would. In fact, these responses will sound so much like counterbids that your counterparts will often keep bidding against themselves. We’ve found that you can usually express “No” four times before actually saying the word. The first step in the “No” series is the old standby: “How am I supposed to do that?