Tnt Quotes

On the whole, I do not find Christians, outside of the catacombs, sufficiently sensible of conditions. Does anyone have the foggiest idea what sort of power we so blithely invoke? Or, as I suspect, does no one believe a word of it? The churches are children playing on the floor with their chemistry sets, mixing up a batch of TNT to kill a Sunday morning. It is madness to wear ladies’ straw hats and velvet hats to church; we should all be wearing crash helmets. Ushers should issue life preservers and signal flares; they should lash us to our pews. For the sleeping god may wake someday and take offense, or the waking god may draw us out to where we can never return.

TMT, too much testosterone. Way more dangerous than TNT.

El arte consiste en llegar hasta la últimas consecuencias. Si comienzas con tambores, tienes que acabar con dinamita o TNT.

Nineteen is the age where you say Look out, world, I’m smokin’ TNT and I’m drinkin’ dynamite, so if you know what’s good for ya, get out of my way—

Fermi proslul svou schopností jednoduchým a rychlým způsobem odhadnout fyzikální veličiny. Při explozi první jaderné bomby v Alamogordu v poušti v Novém Mexiku 15. července 1945 například upustil kus papíru z výšky ramen a sledoval, jak se vlivem nárazové vlny z bomby odklonil. Tím, že věděl, že epicentrum je devět mil daleko, odhadl energii výbuchu – jednalo se o ekvivalent více než 10 000 tun TNT.

Love and Trust God, It's a life time commitment!!!

Dynamite was the milk of life to the average hillbilly of the day. He celebrated with it, feuded with it, and fished with it. The Sporting instinct runs strong in the hills. When the fishing season would open, the river would literally be aboil with TNT.

More energy is needed to rise a millimetre above a neutron star's surface than to break completely free of Earth's gravity. A pen dropped from a height of one metre would impact with the energy of a ton of TNT (although the intense gravity on a neutron star's surface would actually, of course, squash any such objects instantly). A projectile would need to attain half the speed of light to escape its gravity; conversely, anything that fell freely onto a neutron star from a great height would impact at more than half the speed of light.

When I was young there were some things I didn’t understand. I never understood how Superman could love Lois Lane…

Caffeine is made of carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen and oxygen: the same as cocaine, thalidomide, nylon, TNT and heroin.

Art consists in going the full length. If you start with the drums you have to end with dynamite, or TNT.

Look out, world, I’m smokin’ TNT and I’m drinkin’ dynamite, so

Imagine a pile of TNT about the size of Rhode Island and reaching eight miles into the sky, to about the height of the highest cirrus clouds, and you have some idea of what visitors to Yellowstone are shuffling around on top of.

Torpedo! Starboard side!” The lookout grasped the cold metal handrail tightly, his knuckles white, staring helplessly as a 20-foot torpedo, travelling at 60 feet per second, disappeared from his view to ram 400 pounds of high-explosive TNT-Hexanite into the majestic ocean passenger liner.

All of you have heard of Dr. Emil Coue, the Frenchman who was in this country a few years ago, telling people they could cure themselves if they would adopt his plan. His idea was that you should say to yourself “Every day, in every way, I am getting better and better.” Just ponder over that for a minute.

Footnote 164: "I finally hooked up with Ashley. I went over to her place yesterday morning. Early. She lives in Venice. Her eyebrows look like flakes of sunlight. Her smile, I'm sure, burnt Rome to the ground. And for the life of me I didn't know who she was or where we met... We sat down and I wanted to talk. I wanted to ask her who she was, where we'd met, been before, but she just smiled and held my hand as we lay down on the hammock and started to swing above all those dead leaves... Before I left she told me our story: where we met - Texas - kissed, but never made love and this had confused and haunted her and she had needed it before she got married which was in four months to a man she loved who made a living manufacturing TNT exclusively for a highway construction firm up in Colorado where he frequently went on business trips and where one night, drunk, angry and disappointed he had invited a hooker back to his motel room and so on and who cared and what was I doing here anyway?... I was still hurting, abandoned, drank three glasses of bourbon and fumed on some weed, then came here, thinking of voices, real and imagined, of ghosts, my ghost, of her, at long last, in this idiotic footnote, when she gently pushed me out her door and I said quietly 'Ashley' causing her to stop pushing me and ask 'yes?' her eyes bright with something she saw that I could never see though what she saw was me, and me not caring now at least knowing the truth and telling her the truth: 'I've never been to Texas.'" - House of Leaves

Stonecutter said, pushing him gently in the back. “No, I’ll go last,” the User-that-is-not-a-user said. “Someone has to trigger the TNT so that the monsters cannot follow, and that’s my job.” He could hear the moans of the zombies getting louder as they neared the top of the wall. “Stonecutter, I need you to look after my sister,” Gameknight said, pointing to Monet, who still stood at the top of the watchtower with Hunter and Stitcher. “Please … go get her and take her to a minecart. Carry her if you must, but make her safe.” The stocky NPC nodded his head, his stone-gray eyes staring back at Gameknight999 with confidence and

now know about the involvement of Union Carbide in the Manhattan Project, the TNT Area, Area 51, and the Roswell Crash (where Carbide glue was found), we can assume that “nukes” and “saucers” were the exact same project. After Carbide’s Tech Center in South Charleston, West Virginia built the first atomic reactor in the late 1920s, and had

Sixteen hours ago an American airplane dropped one bomb on Hiroshima, an important Japanese Army base. That bomb had more power than 20,000 tons of T.N.T.

In February, 1945, American bombers reduced this treasure to crushed stone and embers; disemboweled her with high-explosives and cremated her with incendiaries. The atom bomb may represent a fabulous advance, but it is interesting to note that primitive TNT and thermite managed to exterminate in one bloody night more people than died in the whole London blitz.

What are the nuclei made of, and how are they held together? It is found that the nuclei are held together by enormous forces. When these are released, the energy released is tremendous compared with chemical energy, in the same ratio as the atomic bomb explosion is to a TNT explosion, because, of course, the atomic bomb has to do with changes inside the nucleus, while the explosion of TNT has to do with the changes of the electrons on the outside of the atoms.

Misero un segugio esplosivo sulle tracce di Turner a Nuova Delhi, sintonizzato sui suoi feromoni e sul colore dei capelli. Lo raggiunse in una strada chiamata Chandni Chauk, e si lanciò verso la sua BMW noleggiata, fra una selva di gambe nude e brune e ruote di tassì a pedale. Il nucleo era costituito da un chilogrammo di esogene ricristallizzato e TNT in scaglie. Turner non lo vide arrivare. L'ultima cosa che vide dell'India fu la facciata rosa di un posto che si chiamava Khush-Oil Hotel.

I was nineteen and arrogant... At nineteen, it seems to me, one has a right to be arrogant; time has usually not begun its stealthy and rotten subtractions... Nineteen is the age where you say "Look out, world, I'm smokin' TNT and I'm drinkin' dynamite, so if you know what's good for ya, get out of my way..." I had a typewriter that I carried from one shithole apartment to the next, always with a deck of smokes in my pocket and a smile on my face. The compromises of middle age were distant, the insults of old age over the horizon... Then, around the age of thirty-nine, my troubles set in: drink, drugs, a road accident that changed the way I walked (among other things)... The world eventually sends out a mean-ass Patrol Boy to slow your progress and show you who's boss. You reading this have undoubtedly met yours (or will); I met mine, and I'm sure he'll be back. He's got my address. He's a mean guy, a Bad Lieutenant, the sworn enemy of goofery, fuckery, pride, ambition, loud music, and all things nineteen.

An aurora swirled in the night skies above Bataan, radiating around the smoke-shrouded peaks of the Mariveles Mountains. Intermittent flashes from phosphorus bombs and incendiary shells bathed the jungle in blinding bursts of white light. The rumbling, subterranean tremors had scarcely subsided when American stockpiles of TNT and ammunition dumps were detonated, causing the peninsula to convulse. Thousands of rounds of projectiles, from artillery and mortar shells to rifle bullets, streaked across the sky in arcing rainbows. "Never did a 4th of July display equal it in noise, lights, colors or cost," observed one officer.

i’m very expressive. i deserve to feel pretty. i kissed the blarney stone. i am strong. i am brave. im a good friend. I’m a good sister. I’m a good wife. i am a good in-law. I’m a good daughter. i am a good niece. I’m a good beagle mother. i am a good granddaughter. i work hard for it, honey. im superfly TNT motherfucker. im a pilot of the airwaves. im a better third baseman that brooks robinson. I B-E-A-G-G-R-E-S-S-I-V-E. i have exceptionally beautiful feet, eyes, ears, hips, hair, teeth, breasts. and shoulders. and fingernails. in a different pen, she added, and eyelashes and eyebrows, plus in yet another pen, and nose. and chin.

Of course some will ask, what about the white horse rider in the book of Revelation? In the end doesn’t Jesus resort to the ways of war? No! If God’s final solution for violence is simply a more gruesome version of the Nazi Final Solution, then we might as well throw away our Bibles away and roll out the TNT. And those caissons go rolling along. For that matter, if the world is to be shaped by violent power and not by co-suffering love, we should stop quoting Jesus and start quoting Nietzsche. If God’s solution for evil is to kill people who are evil, God didn’t need to send his Son—he  could have just sent in the tanks. Reading the end of the Bible as though Jesus ultimately renounces the Sermon on the Mount and resorts to catastrophic violence is a reckless and irresponsible reading of the apocalyptic text.

With Tommy by his side but Anthony Jr. nowhere to be seen, Anthony cranks out an old 8mm projector, and soon choppy black- and-white images appear on the cream wall capturing a few snapshots from the canyon of their life—that tell nothing, and yet somehow everything. They watch old movies, from 1963, 1952, 1948, 1947—the older, the more raucous the children and parents becoming. This year, because Ingrid isn’t here, Anthony shows them something new. It’s from 1963. A birthday party, this one with happy sound, cake, unlit candles. Anthony is turning twenty. Tatiana is very pregnant with Janie. (“Mommy, look, that’s you in Grammy’s belly!” exclaims Vicky.) Harry toddling around, pursued loudly and relentlessly by Pasha—oh, how in 1999 six children love to see their fathers wild like them, how Mary and Amy love to see their precious husbands small. The delight in the den is abundant. Anthony sits on the patio, bare chested, in swimshorts, one leg draped over the other, playing his guitar, “playing Happy Birthday to myself,” he says now, except it’s not “Happy Birthday.” The joy dims slightly at the sight of their brother, their father so beautiful and whole he hurts their united hearts—and suddenly into the frame, in a mini-dress, walks a tall dark striking woman with endless legs and comes to stand close to Anthony. The camera remains on him because Anthony is singing, while she flicks on her lighter and ignites the candles on his cake; one by one she lights them as he strums his guitar and sings the number one hit of the day, falling into a burning “Ring of Fire ... ” The woman doesn’t look at Anthony, he doesn’t look at her, but in the frame you can see her bare thigh flush against the sole of his bare foot the whole time she lights his twenty candles plus one to grow on. And it burns, burns, burns . . . And when she is done, the camera—which never lies—catches just one microsecond of an exchanged glance before she walks away, just one gram of neutral matter exploding into an equivalent of 20,000 pounds of TNT. The reel ends. Next. The budding novelist Rebecca says, “Dad, who was that? Was that Grammy’s friend Vikki?” “Yes,” says Anthony. “That was Grammy’s friend Vikki.” Tak zhivya, bez radosti/bez muki/pomniu ya ushedshiye goda/i tvoi serebryannyiye ruki/v troike yeletevshey navsegda . . . So I live—remembering with sadness all the happy years now gone by, remembering your long and silver arms, forever in the troika that flew by . . . Back

I was nineteen and arrogant... At nineteen, it seems to me, one has a right to be arrogant; time has usually not begun its stealthy and rotten subtractions... Nineteen is the age where you say "Look out, world, I'm smokin' TNT and I'm drinkin' dynamite, so if you know what's good for ya, get out of my way..." Nineteen's a selfish age and finds one's cares tightly circumscribed. I had a lot of reach, and I cared about that. I had a lot of ambition, and I cared about that. I had a typewriter that I carried from one shithole apartment to the next, always with a deck of smokes in my pocket and a smile on my face. The compromises of middle age were distant, the insults of old age over the horizon... Then, around the age of thirty-nine, my troubles set in: drink, drugs, a road accident that changed the way I walked (among other things). I've written about them at length and need not write about them here. Besides, it's the same for you, right? The world eventually sends out a mean-ass Patrol Boy to slow your progress and show you who's boss. You reading this have undoubtedly met yours (or will); I met mine, and I'm sure he'll be back. He's got my address. He's a mean guy, a Bad Lieutenant, the sworn enemy of goofery, fuckery, pride, ambition, loud music, and all things nineteen.

What is a terrorists’ favorite tea? TNT.

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At 5 a.m. the clubs get going properly; the Forbeses stumble down from their loggias, grinning and swaying tipsily. They are all dressed the same, in expensive striped silk shirts tucked into designer jeans, all tanned and plump and glistening with money and self-satisfaction. They join the cattle on the dance floor. Everyone is wrecked by now and bounces around sweating, so fast it’s almost in slow motion. They exchange these sweet, simple glances of mutual recognition, as if the masks have come off and they’re all in on one big joke. And then you realise how equal the Forbeses and the girls really are. They all clambered out of one Soviet world. The oil geyser has shot them to different financial universes, but they still understand each other perfectly. And their sweet, simple glances seem to say how amusing this whole masquerade is, that yesterday we were all living in communal flats and singing Soviet anthems and thinking Levis and powdered milk were the height of luxury, and now we’re surrounded by luxury cars and jets and sticky Prosecco. And though many Westerners tell me they think Russians are obsessed with money, I think they’re wrong: the cash has come so fast, like glitter shaken in a snow globe, that it feels totally unreal, not something to hoard and save but to twirl and dance in like feathers in a pillow fight and cut like papier mâché into different, quickly changing masks. At 5 a.m. the music goes faster and faster, and in the throbbing, snowing night the cattle become Forbeses and the Forbeses cattle, moving so fast now they can see the traces of themselves caught in the strobe across the dance floor. The guys and girls look at themselves and think: ‘Did that really happen to me? Is that me there? With all the Maybachs and rapes and gangsters and mass graves and penthouses and sparkly dresses?’ A Hero for Our Times I am in a meeting at TNT when my phone goes off.

A couple of the giant zombie pigmen were hit by TNT blasts from the cannons, slowing them down,

TNT blocks ignite. I looked over at Tyler, who had his ears covered, so I did the same.

filled with TNT blocks.

Left Head: Steve snuck up on us! I knew he would want to come back and talk to us again and maybe set things straight. Middle was so mad. He was right in the middle of making some kind of trap with dynamite and TNT when Steve got here. I wanted to try talking things over first, but Middle wouldn’t stop shooting skulls long enough for me to get a word in. I had to take matters into my own hands and fly straight into the…well, it isn’t really a sky, is it? But I flew us away until Middle could get his head on straight and stop shooting skulls all over the place. Right Head: Left is right. Steve’s an okay guy. Wait, Left can’t be Right. I’m Right. Wait. I’m getting confused. @_@ But Middle blew up our base. He says it was an accident, but he likes blowing stuff up more than I do! So, everything exploded and then we flew away! I like flying. =) Not as much as exploding though. And I like growing stuff even more! =D I’m not really sure where we’re flying to, but Middle knows.

Herobrine tapped the table with his fingers. “Apparently, it does. It also means that Notch has taken away all my TNT and told me that I’m not allowed to try to blow up the world again for at least ten years. I think Notch is being stupid, but he’s Notch and he always gets his way. Some Balance.” Herobrine rolled his eyes.

Abdul Khader was not at the hotel, but twenty-six people died in the explosion. The inevitable retaliation came on the morning of February 22, 1948, at Ben Yehuda Street in the heart of Jewish Jerusalem. Three trucks loaded with TNT exploded, sending a flash of white light across the morning sky and shattering the dawn silence. The devastation was enormous. Entire buildings collapsed from the power of the blast. Apartments had their facades torn off, revealing bleeding, crying people, many who had been asleep when the explosion hit.

Is it time for the trap, sir?” a cowman asked Porkins. “Yes,” said Porkins. “I believe it is.” Porkins ran over to a lever on the wall and pulled it. For a split second, nothing happened, then KAAAAADOOOOOOOOOM, an explosion burst from the ground underneath the feet of the enemy illagers outside the town, as the TNT trap that Dave had laid went off. The explosion took out a load of Marie’s forces and created a huge crater, but there were still plenty more of them left.

McCarl pulled out his bazooka and fired some TNT at the giant potato, but the potato was so big that the explosion barely made a dent in it. “What are we going to do now?” asked McAlex.

Each kilogram of heavy hydrogen equaled about 85,000 tons TNT equivalent.1622 Theoretically, 12 kilograms of liquid heavy hydrogen—26 pounds—ignited by one atomic bomb would explode with a force equivalent to 1 million tons of TNT.

What is TNT?

According to the FBI, Semtex has an indefinite half-life and is far stronger than traditional explosives such as TNT. It is also easily available on the black market. Semtex became infamous when just 12 ounces of the substance, molded inside a Toshiba cassette recorder, blasted Pan Am flight 103 out of the sky above Lockerbie, Scotland, in December 1988, killing 270 people. A year later, after the Czech Communist regime was toppled, the new president, Vaclav Havel, revealed that the Czechs had exported 900 tons of Semtex to Col. Moammar Qaddafi's Libya and another 1,000 tons to other unstable states such as Syria, North Korea, Iraq, and Iran. Some experts now put worldwide stockpiles of Semtex at 40,000 tons. Brebera says that with so much Semtex already in the hands of terrorists, and similar explosives being produced in other countries, the Czech Republic can no longer control it. "Semtex is no worse an explosive than any other," he says, defensive at the sight of accusatory headlines in Western newspapers. "The American explosive C4 is just as invisible to airport X-rays, but they don't like to mention that." After the Lockerbie tragedy, Brebera added metal components and a distinct odor to make Semtex easier to detect. But that did not stop terrorists from using it to bomb the US Embassy in Nairobi, Kenya, in 1998, or prevent the IRA, which received about 10 tons of Semtex from Libya, from continuing its attacks.

there is a golden thread that runs through all the teachings and makes them work for those who sincerely accept and apply them, and that thread can be named in the single word—belief.

An old Latin proverb says, “Believe that you have it, and you have it.” Belief is the motivating force that enables you to achieve your goal.

Here’s another interesting thought. If glaciers started reforming, they have a great deal more water now to draw on—Hudson Bay, the Great Lakes, the hundreds of thousands of lakes of Canada, none of which existed to fuel the last ice sheet—so they would grow very much quicker. And if they did start to advance again, what exactly would we do? Blast them with TNT or maybe nuclear warheads? Well, doubtless we would, but consider this. In 1964, the largest earthquake ever recorded in North America rocked Alaska with 200,000 megatons of concentrated might, the equivalent of 2,000 nuclear bombs. Almost 3,000 miles away in Texas, water sloshed out of swimming pools. A street in Anchorage fell twenty feet. The quake devastated 24,000 square miles of wilderness, much of it glaciated. And what effect did all this might have on Alaska’s glaciers? None.

In PM Magazine, Dr. Seuss, the kids’ book author, has been drawing us with pig noses and wiry mustaches, queuing up for boxes of TNT. There are all sorts of cartoons like that. Sometimes we look like pigs, sometimes monkeys, sometimes rats. We never look like us.

Sa‘sa was attacked at midnight – all the villages attacked under the ‘Lamed-Heh’ order were assaulted around midnight, recalled Moshe Kalman. The New York Times (16 April 1948) reported that the large unit of Jewish troops encountered no resistance from the residents as they entered the village and began attaching TNT to the houses. ‘We ran into an Arab guard,’ Kalman recounted later. ‘He was so surprised that he did not ask “min hada?”, “who is it?”, but “eish hada?”, “what is it?” One of our troops who knew Arabic responded humorously [sic] “hada esh!” (“this is [in Arabic] fire [in Hebrew]”) and shot a volley into him.’ Kalman’s troops took the main street of the village and systematically blew up one house after another while families were still sleeping inside. ‘In the end the sky prised open,’ recalled Kalman poetically, as a third of the village was blasted into the air. ‘We left behind 35 demolished houses and 60–80 dead bodies’ (quite a few of them were children).73 He commended the British army for helping the troops to transfer the two wounded soldiers – hurt by debris flying through the air – to the Safad hospital.74

And yet, as a Red Army officer, she was heading into a new battle. History was pivoting around her. Before the war, she had spied against fascists and anti-communists, Chinese, Japanese, and German; during the conflict, she had spied against both the Nazis and the Allies; after it, and henceforth, she would be spying against the West, the new enemies in a Cold War. A photograph of the Summertown neighborhood victory party includes a beaming Ursula, happily celebrating Hitler’s downfall. One man is wearing an army uniform. Another raises two fingers in the V for Victory sign. But behind the image of shared relief, triumph, and optimism lay a hidden ideological divergence that would soon erupt in a new conflict. “Everyone hoped for a better world,” she wrote. “But here our visions of the future differed.” — TWO MONTHS LATER, in the remote deserts of New Mexico, scientists of the Manhattan Project detonated the first nuclear device, in a test code-named “Trinity,” releasing a blast equivalent to twenty thousand tons of TNT.

A local scientist, who had taken it upon himself to rally some help from other retired experts and deactivate some of the weaponry, showed me into a corrugated-iron shed, locked by a single piece of string, inside which were 30,000 rusting shells still containing the military high-explosive TNT.

Scientists expected that the Super, a fusion or "thermonuclear" weapon, would be an awesomely destructive horror that could unleash the equivalent of several million tons of TNT. This was hundreds of times more powerful than atomic bombs. A few well-placed hydrogen bombs could kill millions of people. Among the foes of development were famous scientists who had supported atomic development during World War II. One was Albert Einstein, who took to the radio to say that "general annilihation beckons.

get out of the way. Vic dropped the bundle of TNT into the flames as he

Stony objects with diameters 10 in are intercepted by the Earth's atmosphere every decade, and their entry (at speeds -20 km/s) discharges energy equivalent to about 100 kt TNT, roughly seven times the energy released by the Hiroshima bomb.

If you summon multiple TNT minecarts on each other, by using the summon command, they will have the nuclear bomb effect when detonated. 166.

Seriously. What’s with the face?” Jordan asked. “You’re scaring my cabernets with that scowl.” “I’m just working through some stuff,” he said vaguely. Jordan raised an eyebrow, studying him. “Prison stuff?” “More like post-prison stuff. Nothing we need to talk about.” The last thing he needed his super-perfect twin sister with her super-perfect FBI boyfriend knowing was that he was in another dispute, of sorts, with the U.S. Attorney’s Office. He was cranky enough about the situation without Jordan laying into him about it. He’d left prison several weeks ago and was supposed to be moving on with his life, yet the vestiges of the place still clung to him. Like bad BO. He picked up four of the wine bottles Jordan had unpacked. “Where do you want these?” She pointed. “In the empty bin over there, with the other cabernets.” She looked over when Kyle came back to the bar. “So what kind of post-prison stuff?” Now he was getting suspicious. “What’s with the twenty questions?” “Sue me for trying to open a dialogue here. Geez. I’ve just been a little worried about you, since I’ve heard that it can sometimes be difficult for ex-inmates to reenter normal life.” Kyle shot her a look as he grabbed more wine bottles. “Where, exactly, did you hear that? Siblings of Ex-Cons Anonymous?” Jordan glared. “Yes, we have weekly meetings at the YMCA,” she retorted. Then she waved her hand vaguely. “I don’t know, it’s just…something I saw on TV this past weekend.” Ah. Kyle suddenly had a sneaking suspicion about the cause of his sister’s concern. “Jordo…by any chance were you watching The Shawshank Redemption again?” “Pfft. No.” She saw his knowing expression and caved. “Fine. I was flipping through the channels and it was on TNT. You try turning that movie off.” She looked at him matter-of-factly. “It’s very compelling.

An explosive personality with a stubborn streak is bound to clash with other strong personalities when something big is at stake. Kobe had figured in several feuds mostly involving his Los Angeles Lakers teammates; the most infamous of which is the one he had with Shaquille O’Neal. Kobe and Shaq played together for eight years from 1996 to 2004. Not even three championship rings could extinguish the animosity between the two. They had since patch things up and openly talked about their beef in a TNT sit-down special. Still, it was a feud that added intrigue to the Los Angeles Lakers’ narrative as they

She stood by the edge of the TNT booth and surveyed the hall.

Over west to Elephant Butte, up off the Rio Grande. Just a greenhorn, sleepin’ out where we was movin’ cattle. July of ’forty-five. They was a high wind that night and rain, and I didn’t get much sleep. Curled up against a big rock out of the wind. I was still in my bedroll at daybreak when come a god-terrible flash. I jumped up figurin’ one of the boys took a flashbulb pitcher of me sleepin’ on the job. Course nobody had a Kodak. Couple minutes later the ground started rumblin’. We heard plenty of TNT goin’ off to Almagordy before, but we never heard nothin’ like that noise. Sound just kept roarin’. ‘Oh, Jesus,’ I says, ‘what’d they go and do now?’ Next month we saw wheres they bombed Heerosaykee, Japan. We never knowed what an A-tomic bomb was, but we knowed that one flash wasn’t no TNT blockbuster.” “The

TNT

They didn’t have any hair spray, but for some reason they had some TNT, so they used that.

Barrand looked at the surgeon. "Get to work. To begin with, I want the left arm deboned to the wrist and extended." The surgeon's look of disinterest vanished. He drew back the sliding top of the instrument table. "A functional tentacle?" Barrand grunted. "She's to stay alive and able to talk. Aside from that, keep her functional if you can, but it's not of primary importance. Let her watch what's happening.

Torpex. Torpex is a secondary explosive fifty percent more powerful than TNT by mass.

T-N-T, which is funny because most of the time I just

Part of being a man is taking responsibility for your mistakes, no matter how much it hurts or kills you. I left because I needed to learn how to be a man, not like I could have learned by staying here. I needed to be the kind of man you deserved. Because whether you blame me or not for what happened that night, you deserved better than the idiot boy I was back then. Babe, you deserve better than the man I am right now.

Her breaths came harshly as she looked at him, “I can’t let you go, so never let me go.” she hitched her dress higher climbing on behind him. Her arms hugged him close as Tucker hit the clutch, then the throttle.

Heroprime said nothing. He closed his eyes and his hands began to glow. Suddenly the rails began to transform: strips of red and gold appearing on them. He’s turning the rails into powered rails, Spidroth realized. In a moment the entire railtrack was transformed into powered rails. A lever appeared next to Heroprime, and he pulled it. The redstone on the tracks glowed, and then the minecart reversed direction, rolling back up the slope at super speed. The pigmen and villagers in iron armor all cheered.  “Heroprime did it!” a villager yelled. Up the top of the slope, all the pigmen in gold armor began to panic and run away as the minecart with TNT sped towards

If you shift-click TNT with a flint and steel, it will catch on fire, not explode.

Watching and listening up close, I saw nothing to suggest that if his brains were made of TNT they would generate enough explosive power to disarrange his hair.

But it seems somehow paltry and wrong to call what happened at Midway a "battle." It had nothing to do with battles the way they were pictured in the popular imagination. There were no last-gasp gestures of transcendent heroism, no brilliant counterstrategies that saved the day. It was more like an industrial accident. It was a clash not between armies, but between TNT and ignited petroleum and drop-forged steel. The thousands who died there weren't warriors but bystanders -- the workers at the factory who happened to draw the shift when the boiler exploded.

The plane reportedly made a first pass over the village, dumping packets of sugar to lure a crowd to the central plaza. Then it swooped in low on a second run, dropping TNT on the assembled Indians.

TNT

The worst time being when I cleaned my room by pushing everything under my bed.

Uh! I hate the sound of rain For all of you who hate the sound of rain, here is the answer to your problem.  If you go to the pause menu and click on the following buttons listed here: options>Video settings>particles>click till shown minimal like the picture above. And enjoy the serenity of silence in the midst of the storm. You got to be kidding me? Pink sheep have a 0.001% chance to spawn in the Nether. So...Yeah pink sheep kind of look like a pig’s imposter. Rubber TNT

I would rather win against teams that hit and made it hard for us, then win because everyone else had mistakes.

If you count our nearby wandering golems.” “Oh, that’s right. Okay, two layers, it is. That’s even better.” “Yeah, that should be plenty.” “Alright, that’s it. I’m done with my errands.” “Time to head to the southern wall and wait for our enemy?” asked Bob. I nodded. As we walked to the southern part of the city, Bob said to me, “By the way, I thought that was a great speech.” “Thanks, man. I just spoke from the heart.” “You really boosted everyone’s morale. They didn’t look too scared anymore.” “Good. That’s what I meant to do. Because we don’t need fear right now. We need hope.” We walked past the TNT cannons as a handful of guards were loading TNT blocks into them. “Looks like the troops know what they’re doing,” I said. “Come on, let’s get up on the wall.” When we got up on the wall, I saw all the captains standing there, looking off into the southern horizon. Behind and

At 05:44:36 UTC the projectile made an oblique impact on the day-side of the comet, striking near the edge of one of the two craters. The release of kinetic energy was equivalent to detonating 4,500 kg of TNT. As a result, the comet was slowed by an estimated 0.0001 m/s and its perihelion distance was reduce by some 10 meters.

Steve took out a small army of zombies using TNT and an ender pearl.

Ngoài gửi hàng đi Mỹ giá rẻ chúng tôi còn là đại lý của các hãng vận chuyển lớn khác như UPS, TNT. Chính vì vậy giá cước vận chuyển của Vi Minh Expresss luôn nằm trong top những công ty có mức giá ổn định nhất. Đến với Vi Minh Express , khách hàng sẽ không cần lo lắng về phí vận chuyển, luôn có các mức giá ưu đãi

TNT blocks