Unc Quotes

I am creating an atmosphere! Oh, Unc, we’ve finally got bodies in this joint! Paying bodies. We could have a good racket going here.” “I’m not interested in a ‘racket.’ I’m an academic.” “That’s okay, Unc. I won’t hold it against you.

I’m no expert, but I know one thing about anger—it’s like alcohol. At some point, if you pour enough in there, it’s coming back up. You may think you’ve built up a tolerance, but the truth is this—no man, not even Unc, can bury it so deep that it doesn’t erupt at some point like Vesuvius and splatter your soul across the earth.

Peter’s mom told me he was talking about transferring to UNC next year. She wanted me to break up with him before he messed up his life for me.” “Damn! Peter’s mom is kind of a bitch!” “She didn’t use those exact words, but that was the gist of it.

What about UNC? Are you even planning on transferring to UVA anymore? When it was William and Mary, it was a given, and now it doesn’t seem like it.” I wet my lips. My heart is pounding out of control. “I’m not sure. Maybe? But maybe not. UNC feels different to me.” “Yeah, I know. It’s obvious.” “Don’t make it sound like a bad thing! Would you rather I go somewhere and be unhappy?” “Temporarily unhappy,” he corrects. “Peter!

Durante un rato nos encontramos mirando la pared, absortos en nuestros pensamientos. Sobre el revoque alguien había pintado con letras negras una secuencia en latín. —¿Qué significa eso? —preguntó Leslie finalmente—. ¿No te olvides de llenar la nevera? —No —dijo Raphael—. Es una cita de Leonardo Da Vinci y los De Villiers se la robaron para usarla como lema familiar. —Oh, entonces seguro que traducido es algo así como «No es que seamos unos fanfarrones, es que realmente somos geniales». O «¡Lo sabemos todo y siempre tenemos razón!». Solté una risita. —«Unce tu carro a una estrella» —dijo Raphael—: eso significa. [...]

He’s still quiet,” I tell her. “Except when UNC makes it to the Sweet Sixteen. And nice. No exceptions there.

Did you play with Uncle Lore today?” Carolena asked. Lily nodded, “Unh-huh,” she said, as she took a bite of cheese. “What did you play?” she asked. “Dwess up,” Lily answered. Carolena started smiling, thinking she knew the answer to her next question, “Did he help you dress up Uncle Destroy?” “Yes!” Lily answered. “UncLore” she said, using the words Uncle and Lore as though they were one combined

What were you so scared about?” I whisper. His hands tighten into fists at his sides. When he finally speaks, his voice comes out raw, like he hasn’t used it in a while. “I was scared that you were going to go to UNC and you were gonna figure out I wasn’t worth it, and you were going to leave.” I take a step closer to him. I put my hand on his arm; he doesn’t pull away from me. “Besides my family, you’re the most special person to me in the world. And I meant some of those things I said the other night, but not the part when I said I only wanted to lose my virginity to you to close a chapter on us. I wanted it to be you because I love you.” Peter puts one arm around my waist, pulls me in, and, looking down at me, he says fiercely, “Neither of us wants to break up. So why should we? Because of some shit my mom said? Because your sister did it that way? You’re not the same as your sister, Lara Jean. We’re not the same as Margot and Sanderson or anybody else. We’re you and me. And yeah, it’s gonna be hard. But Lara Jean, I’ll never feel for another girl what I feel for you.” He says it with all the certainty only a teenage boy can have, and I have never loved him more than at this very moment.

I just want to find a way to be with you that doesn’t hurt you. Because I didn’t realize it until Unc asked. No, no one’s ever given me what I wanted.” He opened his eyes, turning his head to look at the space beside him, where Xander should have been. “Until you. You give me what I want without my ever asking for it—and almost always without giving you anything in return.” He placed a trembling hand on the stone bench, which was cool, despite the heat. “But what if I can’t give you what you want from me

I buy an ice-cream sandwich at the Stop-N-Go on my way home. The taste takes me back to childhood. Back when life was dreaming about things to come and believing that if you really wanted something bad enough, it could and would be yours. I remember praying for a bike for Christmas, and there it was. We prayed for Minnie's gerbil to live and it did. Later, in high school, I asked God for guidance about where to go to college, and that very day, like a kite floating straight from heaven, the acceptance letter came from UNC-Charlotte.

I can see that you’re down in the dumps, Unc. Shall we stop working and call Toni?” “And then what?” “I don’t know. But if it so happens that I’m more of your type . . . Would you like me to give you a blow job? That really does the trick when you’re feeling depressed.

Zeynep Tufekci, the UNC scholar who is one of the world’s foremost experts on the impact of emerging technology in politics, has observed that internet platforms enable the powerful to affect a new kind of censorship. Instead of denying access to communications and information, bad actors can now use internet platforms to confuse a population, drowning them in nonsense. In her book, Twitter and Tear Gas, she asserts that “inundating audiences with information, producing distractions to dilute their attention and focus, delegitimizing media that provide accurate information (whether credible mass media or online media), deliberately sowing confusion, fear, and doubt by aggressively questioning credibility (with or without evidence, since what matters is creating doubt, not proving a point), creating or claiming hoaxes, or generating harassment campaigns designed to make it harder for credible conduits of information to operate, especially on social media which tends to be harder for a government to control like mass media.” Use of internet platforms in this manner undermines democracy in a way that cannot be fixed by moderators searching for fake news or hate speech.

I tell him I’d better get going, because Margot’s coming home from Scotland tonight, and I want to stock the fridge with all her favorite foods. Peter’s face falls. “You don’t want to hang out a little longer? I can take you to the store.” “I still have to clean up the upstairs, too,” I say, standing up. He tugs on my shirt and tries to pull me back onto the bed. “Come on, five more minutes.” I lie back down next to him and he cuddles in close, but I’m still thinking about the yearbook. I’ve been working on his scrapbook for months; the least he can do is write me a nice yearbook message. “This is good practice for college,” he murmurs, pulling me toward him, wrapping his arms around me. “The beds are small at UVA. How big are the beds at UNC?” My back to him, I say, “I don’t know. I didn’t get to see the dorms.” He tucks his head in the space between my neck and shoulder. “That was a trick question,” he says, and I can feel him smile against my neck. “To check and see if you visited a random UNC guy’s dorm room with Chris. Congrats, you passed the test.” I can’t help but laugh.

Peter’s mom told me he was talking about transferring to UNC next year. She wanted me to break up with him before he messed up his life for me.” “Damn! Peter’s mom is kind of a bitch!” “She didn’t use those exact words, but that was the gist of it.” I take a sip of tea. “I wouldn’t want him to transfer for me either…My mom used to say not to go to college with a boyfriend, because you’ll lose out on a true freshman experience.” “Well, to be fair, your mom never met Peter Kavinsky. She didn’t have all the facts. If she had met him…” Trina lets out a low whistle. “She might’ve been singing a different tune.” Tears fill my eyes. “Honestly I regret breaking up with him and I wish I could take it all back!” She tips up my chin. “Then why don’t you?” “I don’t think he’ll ever forgive me for hurting him like that. He doesn’t let people in easily. I think I’m probably dead to him.” Trina tries to hide a smile. “I doubt that. Look, you’ll talk to him at the wedding tomorrow. When he sees you in that dress, all will be forgiven.” I sniffle. “I’m sure he’s not coming.” “I’m sure he is. You don’t plan a man’s bachelor party and then not show to the wedding. Not to mention the fact that he’s crazy about you.” “But what if I hurt him again?” She wraps both her hands around her mug of tea and takes a sip. “You can’t protect him from being hurt, babe, no matter what you do. Being vulnerable, letting people in, getting hurt…it’s all a part of being in love.” I take this in. “Trina, when did you figure out that you and my dad were the real thing?” “I don’t know…I think I just--decided.” “Decided on what?” “Decided on him. On us.” She smiles at me. “On all of it.

I’m walking off the dance floor when I see him. Peter, in a suit, standing to the side, beside the dogwood tree. He looks so handsome I can hardly stand it. I cross the backyard, and he watches me the whole time. My heart is pounding so hard. Is he here for me? Or did he just come because he promised my dad? When I’m standing in front of him, I say, “You came.” Peter looks away. “Of course I came.” Softly I say, “I wish I could take back the things I said the other night. I don’t even remember all of them.” Looking down, he says, “But you meant them, right? So it’s a good thing you said them then, because somebody had to and you were right.” “Which part?” I whisper. “About UNC. About me not transferring there.” He lifts his head, his eyes wounded. “But you should have told me my mom talked to you.” I take a shaky breath. “You should have told me you were thinking about transferring! You should’ve told me how you were feeling, period. You shut down after graduation; you wouldn’t let me in. You kept saying everything was going to be fine.” “Because I was fucking scared, okay!” he bursts out. He looks around to see if anyone heard, but the music is loud, and everyone is dancing; no one is looking at us, and it’s like we are alone here in this backyard. “What were you so scared about?” I whisper. His hands tighten into fists at his sides. When he finally speaks, his voice comes out raw, like he hasn’t used it in a while. “I was scared that you were going to go to UNC and you were gonna figure out I wasn’t worth it, and you were going to leave.

was improving the lives of the current residents and laying the groundwork for generations to come. The CityForge founders had come up with the idea while they were undergraduates at UNC-Chapel Hill, and after graduating this past May, they had set out to make their concept a reality. They had spent the summer promoting their startup and raising money from friends, family, and passionate supporters. They used the funds for their trip to Kenya, where they planned to document every stop along the way—and identify their first “CityForge villages.” And, for reasons that remained unclear to Peyton, the two boys had made a

If something was to happen to Papa……….Unc hated to have this thought, but if something was to happen to Papa it would be all his fault because he brought it all on himself with his erratic behavior. ***

bottoms with snowflakes on them. I know, it’s awful. HW: Misconceptions about people who graduated from UNC? BC: That if by

I backed out of the room and waved at the kid, who regarded me without expression. Outside, I stepped into Vicky, turned my cap around backwards, and considered what Unc had said. I chewed on it all the way home, but something didn’t set right. I rolled into the barn and cut the engine. Was that true? Do you get to the heart through the stomach? Or is there some other portal? I left that hanging because there was one other question more timely, and it had to do with that kid: If you can’t speak, then how do you laugh? And if you can’t laugh, then how do you cry?

lean back, and slowly looked around. When we pulled out of the drive, Sketch sat in the front seat devouring the scenery out the windows and listening to Unc talk about baseball while Mandy and I sat in the back fighting over the direction of the air-conditioning vents. The only trouble with leaving was that Tommye hadn’t shown. I wasn’t sure if that was bad, but I was close to certain that it wasn’t good. Because I knew I wasn’t much competition, I placed my Apple lap-top

UNC is a choice I didn't even know I had, like a door that magically appeared, a door that could lead anywhere.

I heard about this guy one time who, back in the fifties, went off into the bush and tried to convert the natives. He got off the plane, and they surrounded him and shoved about eight spears through his chest.” He shook his head. “Seems like a waste, don’t it? Before he left, somebody asked him why he was going.” Unc walked toward the edge of the porch and talked to me over his shoulder. “He said he gave up what he couldn’t keep to gain what he couldn’t lose.

listening, and nobody’s leg was bouncing around. Not even Sketch’s. Unc continued, “When I was in prison, I had this dream that my life was a rolling canvas. Every day it rolled off the sheet, bleached white, onto the beach of my life. Come sunup, I’d begin to paint it with my thoughts and actions. My breathing, my living, and my dying. Some days the pictures pleased me, maybe even pleased others, pleased God himself, but some days, some months, even some years, they didn’t, and I didn’t ever want to look at them again. But the thing is this . . . every day, no matter what I’d painted the day before, I got a new canvas, washed white. ’Cause each night the tide rolled in, scrubbed it clean, and receded, taking the stains with it. And in my dreams . . . I just stood on the beach and watched all that stuff wash out to sea.

His name is C. J. Skender, and he is a living legend. Skender teaches accounting, but to call him an accounting professor doesn’t do him justice. He’s a unique character, known for his trademark bow ties and his ability to recite the words to thousands of songs and movies on command. He may well be the only fifty-eight-year-old man with fair skin and white hair who displays a poster of the rapper 50 Cent in his office. And while he’s a genuine numbers whiz, his impact in the classroom is impossible to quantify. Skender is one of a few professors for whom Duke University and the University of North Carolina look past their rivalry to cooperate: he is in such high demand that he has permission to teach simultaneously at both schools. He has earned more than two dozen major teaching awards, including fourteen at UNC, six at Duke, and five at North Carolina State. Across his career, he has now taught close to six hundred classes and evaluated more than thirty-five thousand students. Because of the time that he invests in his students, he has developed what may be his single most impressive skill: a remarkable eye for talent. In 2004, Reggie Love enrolled in C. J. Skender’s accounting class at Duke. It was a summer course that Love needed to graduate, and while many professors would have written him off as a jock, Skender recognized Love’s potential beyond athletics. “For some reason, Duke football players have never flocked to my class,” Skender explains, “but I knew Reggie had what it took to succeed.” Skender went out of his way to engage Love in class, and his intuition was right that it would pay dividends. “I knew nothing about accounting before I took C. J.’s class,” Love says, “and the fundamental base of knowledge from that course helped guide me down the road to the White House.” In Obama’s mailroom, Love used the knowledge of inventory that he learned in Skender’s class to develop a more efficient process for organizing and digitizing a huge backlog of mail. “It was the number-one thing I implemented,” Love says, and it impressed Obama’s chief of staff, putting Love on the radar. In 2011, Love left the White House to study at Wharton. He sent a note to Skender: “I’m on the train to Philly to start the executive MBA program and one of the first classes is financial accounting—and I just wanted to say thanks for sticking with me when I was in your class.

If he didn’t want to respect the truce that Unc and his pops had put in place, it was going to be World War III in the streets.

true passion: writing fiction. He grew up in a small town in North Carolina and attended UNC-Chapel Hill, where he founded his first company with one of his childhood friends. He currently lives in Raleigh, North Carolina and would love to hear

attended UNC-Chapel Hill, where he founded his first company with one of his childhood friends. He currently lives in Parkland, Florida and would love to hear from you…

Papa, Ryan, Unc, all the members of The Underworld, some of the barbers, and even Mary Jane came to see Demi perform.

What the eyes don't see, the heart doesn't grieve over.” Well, I say that there isn't an °unce of truth in it. The further off they are, the closer to the heart are all those feelings that we try to repress and forget. If we're in exile, we want to store away every tiny memory of our roots. If we're far from the person we love, everyone we pass in the street reminds us of them.

By seeing to it that McAdoo would satisfy his final foreign-language requirement through the composition of an English-language paper submitted for a fake class that never met, the ASPSA and its friends in the AFRI/AFAM Department made an open mockery of the university’s graduation requirements.

The Family Educational Rights and Privacy Act of 1974, which was designed to ensure privacy and properly regulated access to student records, has become “the shield behind which higher education hides the academic corruption in college athletics.

Papa wasn’t as loved as he thought he was and Unc would bet his last dollar that the knuckle heads that shot at him was from the same neighborhood Papa liked to hang out in. Unc

Yo, Uncle D," said Derek's nephew Barry, coming over to join him on the prow of the ship. "How's it cheesin'?" "You think I'm cool, don't you?" Derek asked. "Yo, Unc, you're the coolest dude on the flippity flop," said Barry. "Yeah, Unc," said Larry, coming over to join them, "you're the raddest cat around. You're totally cowabunga." "Yeah, tubular," said Gary, walking over as well. "You're totally gnarly, one-hundred per-cent mondo and outrageously funky.

Dr. Ralph Baric, the gain-of-function guru, was the American darling of both NIAID and the Defense Advanced Research Project Agency (DARPA). His lab at UNC–Chapel Hill received $726,498 from the Gates Foundation for using recombinant dengue viruses to advance dengue vaccine development. Originating in February 2015, the three-year grant was scheduled to conclude early in 2018.116

SOME YEARS AGO, I read the following quote from Spike Lee and thought instantly of my time at UNC: “It comes down to this,” he said. “Black people were stripped of our identities when we were brought here, and it’s been a quest since then to define who we are.

I was already half out the door when Unc asked if I needed the address. I scoffed at that shit. There wasn’t anywhere she could go without me knowing. You called it stalking. I was ensuring my woman was good at all times.

—Aquest és el meu compromís: jo, Astruc, fill d'en Bonjuhà i de la Sara, metge i cirurgià, amb deu unces de mal geni, però moltes més de paciència, totalment enamorat de la dona més llesta, valenta i tossuda de Barcelona, t'ofereixo tot el que tinc, que no és gaire. Es va posar les mans al pit. —Jo mateix, quatre consells que sé que no seguiràs i la certesa que mai no em mouré del teu costat, si m'hi vols.

So you hear the news?” Mr. Jagroop said. “Your landlord might be a Member-a-Parliament soon, son. They ask me to be the UNC candidate.

What fun to be a Dukie—face painted blue, rocking Cameron Indoor Stadium as the Blue Devils score again. Duke is the most selective private university in the South, though not as tough to get in as arch-rival UNC is for out-of-staters. Duke is strong in engineering but offers public policy rather than business for undergraduates. (The Elite Private Universities - Duke University)

Impact of understaffing on lost sales is 8.56%, and that on profitability is 7.02%. - UNC (2012)

I stood knee-deep as the waves crashed into my legs. I’ll never forget the power. It took my breath away. Unc did that too. And then he gave it back.

when I looked up, the world got a lot bigger. That’s one thing Unc did from the start—he made the world a lot bigger.

People can talk all they want about the Big Ten. About Michigan and Ohio State and Indiana and Kentucky or whatever, but there's no way that compares. They're in different states. Here, we share the same dry cleaners." - Mike Kryzewski

I was covered in shit and maggots. So many larvae crawling all over me, squeezing into the crevices between my toes and riding waves of urine into my ears. My mouth was filled with the fetid material, and partially digested feces mixed with the sloppy crunch of cocooned flies as my jaws opened and closed, gasping for air. My legs kicked out, trying to find purchase on the one large object floating there with me, both the source of all the insufferable maggots and my one chance to propel myself higher.

Why are we so poor, Unc?” repeated the boy. “Not,” said the old Munchkin.