Toon Me Quotes

He told me he fell for me the moment I shouted at him from across the street when he almost ran me off my scooter. I told him it took me longer than that. He doesn't care. I love him now, and that's all that matters.

Hij [...] zei zachtjes tegen me: ‘Het geeft niks, hoor. Het maakt allemaal niks uit.’ Dat zei hij altijd als het over de dood ging. Ik heb hem een keer gevraagd wat dan wel uitmaakt. 'De rest,’ zei hij.

My mother has always told me to trust my instincts. But it’s hard to trust your instincts when they’re breaking your heart.

I met you at the cornerstone on the highway to bedlam./Walked with you to the pinnacle, along that ledge to hell,/Traveled along the passageway of all things aching,/But would crawl with you if you wanted me to/On the steeple point to hope./So we can tip the stars and hold the moon,/Graze the sun, but make it soon.

Jeez!You’re making me want to take you on the grass again.

I saw Dad's eyes widen just a fraction when he heard my voice catch. He glanced at me but quickly turned away. He didn't want me to see his reaction, but I did, and I'll never forget it. In that brief glimpse, I could see what he was thinking behind that fixed stare. There would be no grandkids, there would be no more Creed family bloodline, nothing else to look forward to. From that point on I'd become the last, most devastating disappointment in what he thought his life had added up to--one overwhelming failure.

You told me men don’t do this.” “Do what?” She walked around the counter, speaking animatedly. “Two years ago. We were at Firelight, having drinks. Cade and I had split up and you said that men don’t mope around after a breakup. You said that men avoid issues, get drunk, and pick up a new girl to forget the old one—but that you don’t brood.” Ford held out his hands in disbelief. “How do you remember that? And I’m not brooding.” She folded her arms across her chest and looked at him. “I know you’re my friend,” he said. “But please, for once, can you just act like you have a penis? Because I don’t want to talk about this.” She shrugged. “Fine. We’ll just sit here and listen to music.” She reached for his phone again. “Have you heard Taylor Swift’s new song?” “No.” “Well, you’re going to—on endless repeat until you start talking.

[…] Ik spande me in die tijd tot het uiterste in om minder jong te worden- wat gaf ik om verbazing en onwetendheid? […] Ik wist toen nog niet wie hij was: de w van wie en waar en wat, die van waanzin en waarom en wanneer en wacht! en ook die van woestijnen, van weemoed en van wolken- woorden die mij altijd achtervolgen. Het was een kleine, nietszeggende w, toen ik hem vond, en ik was toen nog zo verschrikkelijk onacceptabel jong.

Poor kid. Nobody’s treatin’ him fair.” Ender gently pushed Bean back against the wall. “I’ll tell you how to get a toon. Prove to me you know what you’re doing as a soldier. Prove to me you know how to use other soldiers. And then prove to me that somebody’s willing to follow you into battle. Then you’ll get your toon. But not bloody well until.

Torak,' zei Renn op strenge toon, 'je hebt al vaker je best gedaan om weg te gaan zonder mij. Dit is de laatste keer. Wil je dat ik met je kom of niet?' Torak wilde iets zeggen, maar er kwam geen woord over zijn lippen. Daarom knikte hij maar. 'Zeg het dan,' zei Renn. 'Ja... Ja, ik wil dat je met me mee komt.' Ze lachte breed. 'Ja!' riep hij uit. Hij nam haar in zijn armen en zwaaide met haar in de rondte, zodat haar rode haren fladderden... Toen pakten ze Renns spullen op en trokken verder, met de wolven achter hen aan en de raven hoog boven hen dansend in de lucht.

[…] Ik spaarde me in die tijd tot het uiterste in om minder jong te worden- wat gaf ik om verbazing en onwetendheid? […] Ik wist toen nog niet wie hij was: de w van wie en waar en wat, die van waanzin en waarom en wanneer en wacht! en ook die van woestijnen, van weemoed en van wolken- woorden die mij altijd achtervolgen. Het was een kleine, nietszeggende w, toen ik hem vond, en ik was toen nog zo verschrikkelijk onacceptabel jong.

Finn helped me through the darkest, bleakest stage of my life. He was strong for me when I was at my lowest ebb, returning year after year and helping me to stand tall. He was the Italian cypress to my withering apple tree, and I will always love him for it. I'm so proud of his achievements. He's doing so well and he deserves to be happy. And he deserves to be with someone else who's happy too. It does strike me so well as slightly ironic that I'm doing the best I've ever done, both mentally and in my career, just as he's no longer around to witness it. He helped me to fly, only for another man to see me soar. Part of what I love about my relationship with Tom is that it started from a place of strength. I'm no longer a shadow of myself, crippled by pain and grief, and we're not pulling in different directions. I like that I'm strong enough to support him if he needs me to.

Paul reached out his hand and introduced himself. And without waiting to be introduced she whipped out her hand and said, “Hi! I’m Jamie Boyd!” And right away she was talking a mile a minute. She was so chipper I couldn’t help but smile. I was like that little dog in Looney Toons who is always following the big bulldog around shouting, “What are we going to do today, Spike?” She was adorable. She started firing off questions, one of which really caught my attention. “So you were in the Army? What was your MOS?” she asked. Now, MOS is a military term most civilians have never heard. It stands for Military Occupational Specialty. It’s basically military code for “job.” So instead of just asking me what my job was in the Army, she knew enough to specifically ask me what my MOS was. I was impressed. “Eleven Bravo. Were you in?” I replied. “Nope! But I’ve thought about it. I still think one day I will join the Army.

I saw her as soon as I pulled into the parking lot. This beautiful woman with a gigantic smile on her face was just about bouncing up and down despite the orthopedic boot she had on her foot as she waved me into a parking space. I felt like I’d been hit in the gut. She took my breath away. She was dressed in workout clothes, her long brown hair softly framing her face, and she just glowed. I composed myself and got out of the car. She was standing with Paul Orr, the radio host I was there to meet. Local press had become fairly routine for me at this point, so I hadn’t really given it much thought when I agreed to be a guest on the afternoon drive-time show for WZZK. But I had no idea I’d meet her. Paul reached out his hand and introduced himself. And without waiting to be introduced she whipped out her hand and said, “Hi! I’m Jamie Boyd!” And right away she was talking a mile a minute. She was so chipper I couldn’t help but smile. I was like that little dog in Looney Toons who is always following the big bulldog around shouting, “What are we going to do today, Spike?” She was adorable. She started firing off questions, one of which really caught my attention. “So you were in the Army? What was your MOS?” she asked. Now, MOS is a military term most civilians have never heard. It stands for Military Occupational Specialty. It’s basically military code for “job.” So instead of just asking me what my job was in the Army, she knew enough to specifically ask me what my MOS was. I was impressed. “Eleven Bravo. Were you in?” I replied. “Nope! But I’ve thought about it. I still think one day I will join the Army.” We followed Paul inside and as he set things up and got ready for his show, Jamie and I talked nonstop. She, too, was really into fitness. She was dressed and ready for the gym and told me she was about to leave to get in a quick workout before her shift on-air. “Yeah, I have the shift after Paul Orr. The seven-to-midnight show. I call it the Jammin’ with Jamie Show. People call in and I’ll ask them if they’re cryin’, laughin’, lovin’, or leavin’.” I couldn’t believe how into this girl I was, and we’d only been talking for twenty minutes. I was also dressed in gym clothes, because I’d been to the gym earlier. She looked down and saw the rubber bracelet around my wrist. “Is that an ‘I Am Second’ bracelet? I have one of those!” she said as she held up her wrist with the band that means, “I am second after Jesus.” “No, this is my own bracelet with my motto, ‘Train like a Machine,’ on it. Just my little self-motivator. I have some in my car. I’d love to give you one.” “Well, actually, I am about to leave. I have to go work out before my shift,” she reminded me. “You can have this one. Take it off my wrist. This one will be worth more someday because I’ve been sweating in it,” I joked. She laughed and took it off my wrist. We kept chatting and she told me she had wanted to do an obstacle course race for a long time. Then Paul interrupted our conversation and gently reminded Jamie he had a show to do. He and I needed to start our interview. She laughed some more and smiled her way out the door.

We wachten wel tot u klaar bent met bidden,' antwoordde ik op een toon die mijn nederigheid moest overbrengen - of dat in elk geval proberen. 'Met bidden?' gromde Nan. 'Met onze Schepper eens goed de waarheid te vertellen, bedoel je.' 'Mijn grootvader heeft deze kapel gebouwd zodat Nan ergens tegen God kon schreeuwen,' zei Jameson tegen me.

We created and registered a new brand, the ‘Barça Toons’, a cartoon version of all the players in the first team. We started using them to promote match attendance and they ended up having their own range of merchandise. In order to increase its dissemination and legitimacy as a club brand, we started the tradition of giving every new player his own Barça Toon at every presentation press conference.

De neerbuigende toon van mijn beste meneer Stach Nogwattes doet me grijnzen. Ik krijg er de neiging van om juist die dingen te zeggen en te doen die niet van me verwacht worden. Het is een soort opstandigheid die me in mijn leven al meerdere malen in de problemen heeft gebracht. Maar vooruit, ik zal me nog even inhouden.

I am writing this with my left hand, although I am strongly right-handed. I had surgery to my right shoulder a month ago (…) and am not capable of use of the right arm at this time. I write slowly, awkwardly – but more easily, more naturally, with each passing day. I am adapting, learning, all the while – not merely this left-handed writing, but a dozen other left-handed skills as well: I have also become very adept, prehensile, with my toes, to compensate for having one arm in a sling. (…) I am developing different patterns, different habits… a different identity, one might say. There must be changes going on with some of the programs and circuits in my brain – altering synaptic weights and connectivities and signals (though our methods of brain imaging are too crude to show these). (…) Nature’s imagination is richer than ours (...). For me, as a physician, nature’s richness is to be studied in the phenomena of health and disease, in the endless forms of individual adaptation by which human organisms, people, adapt and reconstruct themselves, faced with the challenges and vicissitudes of life. Defects, disorders, diseases, in this sense, can play a paradoxical role, by bringing out latent powers, developments, evolutions, forms of life, that might never be seen, or even be imaginable, in their absence. It is the paradox of disease, in this sense, its “creative” potential, that forms the central theme of this book. Thus while one may be horrified of the ravages of developmental disorder or disease, one may sometimes see them as creative toon- for if they destroy particular paths, they may force the nervous system into making other paths and ways, force on it an unexpected growth and evolution. This other side of development or disease is something I see, potentially, in almost every patient; and it is this, here, which I am especially concerned to describe. (…) In addition to the objective approach of the scientist, the naturalist, we must employ an intersubjective approach too, leaping, as Foucault writes, “into the interior of morbid consciousness [trying] to see the pathological world with the eyes of the patient himself”. (…) The exploration of deeply altered selves and worlds is not one that can be made in a consulting room or office. The French neurologist Francois Lhermitte is especially sensitive to this, and instead of just observing his patients in the clinic, he makes a point of visiting them at home, taking them to restaurants of theatres, or for rides in his car, sharing their lives as much as possible.

Agony and complete and utter helplessness engulfed me as the seriousness of our situation finally downed on me. There was nothing I could do. There was no fight to be won. The love of my life was already lost to me.

watched Looney Toons, I was hoping to see a Tasmanian Devil. They are always so irrational and furious. Always makes me laugh. That and Wylie Coyote; optimism in the face of insurmountable odds.’ ‘Interesting,’ Kit said, ‘I know about your unusual taste in novelty pj’s, so you like irrational and furious plus optimism.

mother has always told me to trust my instincts. But it’s hard to trust your instincts when they’re breaking your heart. 1 Three months later New York was shrouded by cloud cover.

Waar ga je heen, mier?" "Naar de verte." "Maar die bestaat niet!" Ze hebben het bewijs, laten het me zien. "Probeer daar maar eens een speld tussen te krijgen, mier!" Ze grijpen me, schudden me door elkaar. Maar die speld, dat ben ik. Krome kortzichtige speld.

WHAT WORKS WELL Mornings: I tend to get a lot done in the mornings. Scheduling/ batching: I spend time each month creating and scheduling social media posts all in one go. Project management: I use Asana to manage all my projects. (I moved to it recently after finding Basecamp a truly painful experience.) And I have ready-made projects set up, which means I can ‘set and forget’ and then wait for the alerts telling me what to do each day. Psst: By ‘ready-made projects’ I mean templates that are set up with standard tasks for each type of job I do. Documentation: I have documents for everything. I also have templates for all kinds of project emails, as well as ad hoc things such as interview requests, favour requests and tech issues. Toggl: I use Toggl to track my time (when I remember to switch it on). Typing: I type super fast (one of my superpowers). Bravery: I’m willing to give stuff a go without fear of failure, which means I don’t procrastinate much.

WHAT DOESN’T WORK SO WELL Psst: Check out all the contradictions, which are all part of the entrepreneurial life. Afternoons: Once it hits 2pm my brain doesn’t work so well. I use this fuzzy time to do monotonous tasks such as social media scheduling, WordPress fixes, editing, etc. Scheduling/ batching: I’d also like to batch things like writing blog posts and creating videos. But I tend to do them randomly when the urge takes me, which isn’t productive at all. Social media: It’s a huge time suck that I wrestle with all day, every day. Boundaries: I try to switch off each evening around 3pm (school days) or 6pm (work days). But I often find myself logging in again. (It doesn’t help that Netflix is on my laptop, which makes it all too easy to flick over to my work email or business Facebook groups every two seconds.) Bravery: Because I’m willing to give things a go, I sometimes launch them without thinking things through!

Because let’s face it: running a business can be stressful, boring and difficult (a nice way of saying that sometimes it totally sucks balls). And being able to laugh and take the piss out of both myself and my business has always helped me get through the tough times.

I’ve already talked about how my fear of not looking right stopped me making videos and doing any public speaking. Well, when I let go of that fear and started booking speaking jobs, it transformed my business. It gave me more authority, more confidence, and helped spread my name farther and wider.

These days, I judge every opportunity by four questions: Does it support one of my three businesses? Will I enjoy doing it? Will it make me money? Is it something my customers want? Three yeses makes it a ‘maybe’. And four usually makes it a sure thing.

Ik heb genoeg lentes overgeslagen. 't Moet uit zijn. Vaak is het me niet eens opgevallen dat het lente werd. Het deed me niks. Nogal wiedes als je er geen acht op slaat, doet niets je iets. Ik merkte de bloesem evenmin op als de sneeuw. Ik hing maar zo'n beetje tussen hemel en aarde. En alles ging snel. Je had geen tijd om stil te staan, of je durfde het niet misschien, omdat je bang was dat je werd ingehaald. Maar nu sta ik stil bij de lente in mijn tuin en ik weet zeker dat het niet het stilstaan is van een ouder wordende man. Wat jammer dat we zo niet kunnen zijn, denk ik, zo opgetogen als deze bloei; zo eerlijk als het gras; zo mild als de voorjaarsregen. En in dit decor van liefde en zachtmoedigheid wil ik alleen maar lieve mensen tegenkomen. O, u mag me rustig beschuldigen van sentimentaliteit, maar wat de aarde op dit moment oproept in mijn hart, laat ik niet zomaar kapotmaken door de wrevel en de onvrede van mensen; door wat ze zeggen in kranten, roepen door de radio, laten zien op de buis. Bij deze bloei in dit licht heb ik geen zin in discussies en vergaderingen en teksten; in beloften of voorspellingen; of in mensen die elkaar pijn willen doen, kwetsen en kwellen, die elkaar voorbij willen streven. Voor mij hoeft het nou es even niet, de succesvolle goalgetters. Daar sta je dan tussen het geweld van dit groene leven, jij met je hinderlijke verstand, midden in het ongeremde dat maar raak leeft zonder enige reserve. Het vlamt op uit de aarde zonder terughoudendheid. Dat doet maar. Het staat op uit de dood. Breekt opnieuw uit de knop. Bloeit als een gek en valt neer zonder droefheid, zonder tranen. Daar sta je dan met je armbandhorloge.

Op een toon die niet ironischer kon zijn, zei ze: 'Vraag je me in ernst met je te trouwen?' 'Tja, ik geloof van wel.' Ik probeerde te blijven schertsen. 'Als jij wilt. Om de problemen met je papieren op te lossen en om te voorkomen dat je op een dag als illegale vreemdeling Frankrijk wordt uitgezet.' 'Ik trouw alleen uit liefde,' zei ze met een priemende blik, stampend met haar rechtervoet. 'Ik zou nooit trouwen met een pummel die me op zo'n lompe manier een huwelijksaanzoek deed.' 'Als je wilt, zal ik voor je knielen en je met mijn hand op mijn hart smeken of je tot aan het einde der tijden mijn aanbeden vrouwtje wilt zijn,' zei ik, van mijn stuk gebracht, niet wetend of ze nog steeds een spelletje speelde of in ernst had gesproken.

Vanavond heb ik me tegenover die vrouw uitstekend gered. Nu ik weet dat mijn leven in gevaar is, zal ik nog voorzichtiger zijn. Ik loop geen enkel risico.' 'Met alle respect, maar ik heb je doodskist nog maar een paar dagen geleden in de grond zien zakken,' gaf Sofia weerwoord op een bitse toon die niet bij haar paste.