Uturn Quotes

A seed that lands upside down in the ground will wheel --root and stem--in a great U-turn until it rights itself. But a human child can know it's pointed wrong and still consider the direction well worth a try.

To those waiting with bated breath for that favorite media catchphrase, the U-turn, I have only this to say, ‘You turn if you want; the lady’s not for turning.

I’ve found that life is a series of crossroads, dead-ends and U-turns. There is no real destination. There is no goal to end all goals. As long as we’re living, we’ll always keep driving.

Time does not give one much leeway: it thrusts us forward from behind, blows us through the narrow tunnel of the present into the future. But space is broad, teeming with possibilities, positions, intersections, passages, detours, U-turns, dead-ends, one-way streets. Too many possibilities, indeed.

[T]he nature of science is not that of a steady, linear progression toward the Truth, but rather a tortuous road, often characterized by dead ends and U-turns, and yet ultimately inching toward a better, if tentative, understanding of the natural world.

Remember, if you're heading in the wrong direction, God allows U-turns!

Misery is a no U-turns, no stopping road. Travel down it pushed by those behind, tripped by those in front. Travel down it at furious speed though the days are mummified in lead. It happens so fast once you get started, there’s no anchor from the real world to slow you down, nothing to hold on to. Misery pulls away the brackets of life leaving you to free fall. Whatever your private hell, you’ll find millions like it in Misery. This is the town where everyone’s nightmares come true.

The amazing thing about a long journey is that you can miss exits, run Stop signs, head the wrong way down a one-way street, get lost, misplace your keys, find them, make a U-turn, and still, somehow, miraculously reach your proper destination.

Thirty years later he could not come to any other conclusion: women were indisputably better than men. They were gentler, more affectionate, more loving and more compassionate, they were rarely violent, selfish, cruel or self-centred. Moreover, they were more rational, more intelligent and more hardworking. What on earth were men for? Michael wondered as he watched sunlight play across the closed curtains. In earlier times, when bears were more common, perhaps masculinity served a particular function, but for centuries now, men served no useful purpose. For the most part, they assuaged their boredom playing squash, which was a lesser evil; but from time to time they felt the need to change history - which expressed itself in leading a revolution or starting a war somewhere. Aside from the senseless suffering they caused, revolutions and war destroyed the achievements of the past, forcing societies to build again. Without the notion of continuous progress, human evolution took random, irregular and violent turns for which men (with their predilection for risk and danger, their repulsive egotism, their volatile nature and their violent tendencies) were directly to blame. A society of women would be immeasurably superior, tracing a slow, unwavering progression, with no U-turns and no chaotic insecurity, towards a general happiness.

I hadn’t even left my room and already my day had taken a U-turn straight to hell.

if you are in a situation or difficulty, you can make a U-turn; instead of putting the blame on something outside or on someone else, look within yourself to see how you have contributed to the problem, and then find a way to restore peace to the situation.

Life is a one-way journey without stopping or any U-turns.

Bagi Karin, jatuh cinta itu seperti dangdut. Semuanya jadi serba norak. Tapi, ia mulai menikmatinya.

Don’t ever rule out the option of U-turn in your life, because one day you will need it! The moment you realize that you are going to the wrong direction, turn to the right direction instantly, with a beautiful U-turn!

When you begin navigating your life towards your dreams; some will call you selfish, some will become uncomfortable and others will be inspired. The only thing that really matters is following the path to living YOUR best life. There may be detours, one way streets and occasional U-turns on this journey but allow your soul to get you there right on time.

People will hold an opinion because they want to keep the company of others who share the opinion, or because they think it is the respectable opinion, or because they have publicly expressed the opinion in the past and would be embarrassed by a “U-turn,” or because the world would suit them better if the opinion were true, or . . . Perhaps it is better to get on with your family and friends, to avoid embarrassment, or to comfort yourself with fantasies than to believe the truth. But those who approach matters in this way should give up any pretensions to intellectual seriousness. They are not genuinely interested in reality.

TRANSCENDING Escher got it right. Men step down and yet rise up, the hand is drawn by the hand it draws, and a woman is poised on her very own shoulders. Without you and me this universe is simple, run with the regularity of a prison. Galaxies spin along stipulated arcs, stars collapse at the specified hour, crows u-turn south and monkeys rut on schedule. But we, whom the cosmos shaped for a billion years to fit this place, we know it failed. For we can reshape, reach an arm through the bars and, Escher-like, pull ourselves out. And while whales feeding on mackerel are confined forever in the sea, we climb the waves, look down from clouds. —From Look Down from Clouds (Marvin Levine, 1997)

What do I say to a whale, Galen?" I hiss. "Tell him to come closer." "No way." "Fine. Tell him to back up." I nod. "Right. Okay." I lace my fingers together to keep from wringing my hands raw. Even more than terror, I feel the insanity of the situation. I'm about to ask a fish the size of my house to make a U-turn. Because Galen, the man-fish behind me, doesn't speak humpback. "Uh, can you please back away from me?" I say. I sound polite, like I'm asking him to buy some Girl Scout cookies. I feel better in the few moments afterward because Goliath doesn't move. It proves Galen doesn't know what he's talking about. It proves this whale can't understand me, that I'm not some Snow White of the ocean. Except that, Goliath does start to turn away. I look back at Galen. "That's just a coincidence." Galen sighs. "You're right. He probably mistook us for a relative or something. Tell him to do something else, Emma.

Consider guilt like a street sign that warns of rough roads ahead if you don’t make a u-turn.

You can choose to stay strong and keep moving on or you can run, and in the end still make a U-turn..

The engine starts, the car lurches into a U-turn. As we pull away, from the porch, a boy, no older than I am, points a toy pistol at us. The gun jumps and his mouth makes blasting noises. His father turns to yell at him. He shoots once, two more times. From the window of my helicopter, I look at him. I look him dead in the eyes and do what you do. I refuse to die.

She slid a sideways glance in his direction, trying to figure out just what it was that was making her so . . . so painfully self-conscious all of a sudden. He was looking right at her. Grinning. A big, stupid, self-satisfied grin, as if he had been eavesdropping on her all-too-embarrassing thoughts. “What?” She tried to defend herself, wishing she’d never looked his way as she felt her cheeks burning with shame. “What?” she asked again when he just laughed at her. “Were you planning to ditch school today, or should we turn around?” She looked up and realized that she’d just driven past the road that led to the school. “Why didn’t you say something?” she accused as she pulled a quick, and probably illegal, U-turn. The tops of her ears felt they were on fire now. “I just wanted to see where you were heading.” He shrugged. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t skip school. You just have to ask me first.” His new grown-up voice seemed to fill all the space of the small car, and Violet found even that annoying. “Shut up,” she insisted, even though she couldn’t help smiling now too. She couldn’t believe she’d passed the entrance to her own school. “Now we really are going to be late.

What does normally activate the fear of happiness is an experience that is judged to be too much, too big, or too good to be true. I have coached many people who have gotten themselves out of a hole, and are about to be truly happy again, when suddenly they turn around and run back into the hole. Sometimes it’s a different hole, perhaps a slightly more interesting one, but it is still a hole. And if it’s not a hole they find, then it’s a drama, or a crisis, or a health issue, or some other distraction. This looks like bad luck, and as if some external force has intervened, but I assure you what’s really happened is that your ego has performed a maneuver that I call the “Ego U-Turn.

Watching them, Harmony felt too shaken to take a step. Eddie and Sheba were young; but she herself had become old. Even if she wasn’t particularly old if you just counted years, the fact was years were no way to count. Happenings were the way to count, the big happening that separated her from youth or even middle age was the death of her daughter, Pepper. That death made her realize that life, once you got around to producing children, was no longer about being pretty or having boyfriends or making money – it was about protecting children; getting them raised to the point where they could try life as adults. It didn’t have to be just children that come out of your body, either. It could be anyone young who needed something you had to give. Some grown men were children; some grown women, too. Harmony knew that she had spent a good part of her life, taking care of just such men. But now that she felt old she didn’t think she wanted to spend much more of her energy protecting men who had had a good chance to grow up, but had blown it. If she never had another boyfriend – something she had been worrying about, on the plane – it might be a little dull in some areas, like sexual areas, but it wouldn’t be the end of the world. What would be the end of the world would be to let some little girl like Sheba get in the car with a bad man who would make a U-turn across the street and kill her right there in front of the pay phones, where pimps and crack dealers were making their calls.

It sounds weird to be grateful for things that don't turn out the way you want them to. But I realised that there were many blessings that I'm grateful for today which I wouldn't have had if I did not have to make a few u-turns and detours along the way.

Life can sometimes seem like the most meandering journey, and we rarely end up exactly where we intended. But I suppose as long as we have purpose--to keep moving, trying, loving, laughing, living--we can deal with all the u-turns and pitstops along the way.

It is fact!” I smack a hand on the table. “It would be like fisting myself!” Jess drops her head into a hand, sighing, and only then do I realize that River had just entered the room holding a tray of snacks for us. He makes a U-turn without pausing and silently exits.

Karin, jika cinta membuatmu gila. Itu bukan cinta namanya. Pulanglah dan tunggu dia kembali padamu. Namun jika dia tak kembali, itu berarti ada orang lain di luar sana yang lebih baik bagimu. Saat ini ia sedang mencarimu, agar ia bisa mencintaimu sesuai takdirnya. Berikanlah cintamu padanya.

There are no U-Turns or Exit Ramps in this life, move forward and don't look back.

There’s no U-turn Isla, no crossroads. Your path led you to me. End of the road, sweetheart.

God is very clever… He has crafted lines on our palm like a single lane, where there is no easy U-turn in that.

I’ve found that life is a series of crossroads, dead-ends and U-turns. There is no real destination. There is no goal to end all goals. As long as we’re living, we’ll always keep driving. I’m

Even now, the Lincoln was less than a half block behind. “Dammit. They just won’t shake lose.” “Oh yeah?” Whitney set her teeth and gave the mirror a quick check. She’d never been a gracious loser. “Watch this.” Before Doug could draw a breath, she whipped the Mercedes around in a tight U-turn and headed dead-on for the Lincoln. He watched with a kind of fascinated dread. “Oh my God.

If you travel by Indian Airlines, you don’t have to visit villages in India,” the boy said again in disgust. “It still reminds one of the 1940s. Everything is the same, including their mentality.

The more I stare at it, the more the popcorn ceiling above me resembles an exquisite mosaic. Yellow rings from a leaky roof add pizazz to the imperfect white mounds; the reflection of a parked car outside the hotel room highlights the design in a brilliant, abstract pattern. I try to find a name for this provocative image and decide on “Cottage Cheese, Glorified.” And that’s when it becomes obvious that I’m distracting myself from thinking about the U-turn my life just took. I wonder if Galen is back yet. I wonder what he’s thinking. I wonder if Rayna is okay, if she has a killer headache like I do, if chloroform affects a full-blooded Syrena the way it affects humans. I bet that now she really will try to shoot my mom with her harpoon, which reminds me again of the past twenty-four hours of craziness.

Who Is the Greatest? MATTHEW 18  t At that time the disciples came to Jesus, saying, “Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” 2And calling to him a child, he put him in the midst of them 3and said, “Truly, I say to you, unless you  u turn and  v become like children, you  w will never enter the kingdom of heaven. 4 x Whoever humbles himself like this child is the  w greatest in the kingdom of heaven.

I had no sense of direction. Once, driving on the Sunrise Highway, Harlene said her parents were away and we could go to her house and use the bedroom. Inflamed by the idea, I made a quick U-turn and knocked over a telephone pole.

No behavior has an infinite set of possibilities. Think of a lightning strike, although the state space is very high the bolt never make as a u-turn. The idea of infinities came from Feynman's thought experiment involving the twin slit measurement having an infinite number of slits. The probability distribution is not infinite, there are ratios involved. If reality contains both infinity and unity, it is either a multifaceted jewel, or the singularity dancing. The fiddler is self referential noise.

Me: Morning. How’s the thesis coming along? Maggie: Do you want me to sugar-coat it, or are you honestly giving me an opening to vent? Me: Wide open. Vent away. Maggie: I’m miserable, Ridge. I hate it. I work on it for hours every day, and I just want to take a bat to my computer and go all Office Space on it. If this thesis were a child, I’d put it up for adoption and not even think twice about it. If this thesis were a cute, fuzzy puppy, I’d drop it off in the middle of a busy intersection and speed away. Me: And then you would do a U-turn and go back and pick it up and play with it all night.

Men seemed to have it all, to be considered superior in all perceivable ways, and yet we were discouraged from striving for any form of dominance deemed masculine. To be described in any way as "manly" was the vilest of insults. Such adaptability was required of us to perform this internal U-turn, to conform our loyalties to this crackpot framework, rife with contradiction. I can see now that our ability to do so was evidence not of a lacking survival instinct but of a finely tuned one. What I needed to survive middle school just happened to be the opposite of what I would have needed to survive on Wild America.

Story of Pakistan’ development makes an interesting reading-how a country with lot of baggage of underdevelopment and sets of contradictions and constraints, keeps on stumbling from phase to phase, adopting with religious fervour the mainstream globally accepted development ideas, policies and strategies, which are current at that time. From exclusive emphasis on growth and trickle down of 1960s, she took a U-turn and tried to redistribute the fruits of growth in 1970s.Failing miserably in this endeavour which resulted in an expanded state capitalism; she started denationalizing everything in the following decades and adopted the new mantra of liberalization. She is now struggling to remove poverty in the midst of glaring extravagance of certain classes to avoid bursting at the seams of society.

He encouraged me to take one more deep puff and hold it in, so I did, and the smoke traveled down on top of my esophagus and then did a U-turn up into where my brain was supposed to be. At first it felt like fireworks, and then I began to feel like I was floating down a stream. I liked it. And I took another puff and studied my ass off. The next morning, however, I would fail my very first Spanish exam, because I would not remember how to conjugate anything except Abraham.

I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face/ I felt giddy all the way back to the hotel. I giggled. I was happy. Sage leaned back in his seat and studied me, an amused smile on his face. “What?” I asked. He shook his head. “You’re making fun of me,” I said. “I’m not,” Sage assured me. I knew he was telling the truth. His eyes were affectionate. I was his, not just in the past but today and forever, and nothing had ever made me feel more secure. I was about to pull into the hotel when Sage reminded me of the snacks-the whole reason we’d supposedly gone out. I swung a wild U-turn that slammed Sage against his door. “Taking up stunt driving?” he asked. “Can you imagine walking in without the snacks? Rayna would be all over me.” “You don’t think she will be anyway? It’s been a long snack run.” “It hasn’t been that long,” I said. “Has it?” He scrunched his brows. “What are you trying to say?” I giggled again, and we pulled into a gas station market. Sage wrapped his arm around my shoulders and I leaned against his chest as we walked in step into the store; he held my hand as I cruised the tiny aisles; he stood behind me and rubbed my shoulders as we paid. I felt normal. I imagined how things would be after everything was over: after we met the dark lady, after we got the Elixir, after we found my dad. Sage and I could travel the world together: me taking pictures, him painting, always coming back together at the end of the day to share what we’d done and lie in each other’s arms.

how difficult it is to say, “Boy, did I mess up,” without the protective postscript of self-justification—to say “I dropped a routine fly ball with the bases loaded” rather than “I dropped the ball because the sun was in my eyes” or “because a bird flew by” or “because it was windy” or “because a fan called me a jerk.” A friend returning from a day in traffic school told us that as participants went around the room, reporting the violations that had brought them there, a miraculous coincidence had occurred: Not one of them had broken the law! They all had justifications for speeding, ignoring a stop sign, running a red light, or making an illegal U-turn. He became so dismayed (and amused) by the litany of flimsy excuses that, when his turn came, he was embarrassed to give in to the same impulse. He said, “I didn’t stop at a stop sign. I was entirely wrong and I got caught.” There was a moment’s silence, and then the room erupted in cheers for his candor. There are plenty of good reasons for admitting mistakes, starting with the simple fact that you will probably be found out anyway—by your family, your company, your colleagues, your enemies, your biographer. But there are more positive reasons for owning up. Other people will like you more. Someone else may be able to pick up your fumble and run with it; your error might inspire someone else’s solution. Children will realize that everyone screws up on occasion and that even adults have to say “I’m sorry.” And if you can admit a mistake when it is the size of an acorn, it will be easier to repair than if you wait until it becomes the size of a tree, with deep, wide-ranging roots.

I love this song, can you turn it up?” I reached and turned the dial up on the Vance Joy song “Red Eye.” Adam bobbed his head to the music. At the stoplight I looked over at him. He was wearing the black beanie my brother had given him, his black Wayfarers, and the hospital gown. I laughed. He turned to me and smiled. “What?” he said. “You’re cute.” “Oh yeah? Wanna fool around?” He grinned. I was glad that Adam couldn’t see my eyes welling up behind my sunglasses. The car behind us honked. I hit the gas and my car lurched forward from the intersection. “How much time do we have?” I asked. “What? Are you serious?” “Yes, Adam, I am serious.” He was having a good day. He reached for my phone. “We have like an hour and a half before Leah freaks out.” I knew I was taking a big chance, but how could I say no to him? There was so much joy in him that day just because he got to go to the drive-thru at In-N-Out. “Okay.” I glanced over at him and flattened my lips. “You better not have a seizure on me.” “I can’t think of a better place to have a seizure. Although I can see how that wouldn’t be much fun for you.” I laughed hysterically. “Oh man, I didn’t mean literally on me; I meant on my watch.” “Well, Charlotte, I don’t have much control over that, but I’ll try. You know what helps?” “What?” “Alcohol.” “Really?” As we passed the Four Seasons he said, “Pull in here.” “This is too expensive, Adam.” “What? Are you crazy?” The energy in the car was tangible. “This may be the last time I ever go to a hotel with a girl. I’m paying. I have a ton of money. Come on, Charlotte, please?” His mood was instantly lighter than it had been in several days. “Okay.” I did a U-turn and pulled into the driveway of the hotel.

them.” “Well, since we’re waiting on a fresh warlock, you have time then, right?” “I mean, yeah, I guess so, but—” “That’s alright, I won’t force you to go. I know you have a lot on your mind, but just consider it, okay?” I nodded. “Yes, sir.” We cleaned up the field some more. After a while, I asked, “Hey, where’s Lukester and Cindy? I don’t see them anywhere.” “If they are not here, then they must be at the hospital helping the wounded,” said Adrian. “Okay, I think I’ll head over there, then.” “Sure, Steve. Adrian and I will continue cleaning up here,” said the mayor. Adrian turned to look at the mayor. It looked like he wanted to say something, but he held his tongue. “Alright, see you guys later.” I turned and walked away. Adrian and the mayor waved at me, then they continued picking up weapons. As I walked away, I suddenly remembered that I wanted to ask the mayor something about the mining operation. So, I busted a U-turn and walked toward the mayor. Adrian and the mayor were both busily working and had their backs facing me. “I don’t want him spiraling into depression over the Bob and horse thing, so make sure you keep him busy,” I overheard the mayor say. “Yes, sir,” replied Adrian. “There was a time when he fell into depression and he just lay in bed for days. I don’t want the same thing happening again.” Adrian nodded. “I’ll have plenty for him to do in the coming days, and with the party coming up, I plan to have all sorts of activities to distract him.” “Yes, sir.” “Good, please help me clean up for another five minutes, then go join Steve.” “As you wish.” They were clearly talking about me, and I didn’t want to interrupt them. So, I quietly spun 180 degrees and made my way to the hospital. As I walked, I thought, Wow… the mayor is really concerned about my state of mind. I had no idea… I reached the hospital and found a bunch of patient-filled beds outside. The place was completely packed, so packed that they had to treat patients outdoors. Cindy caught my eye as she frantically ran about from patient to patient. “Cindy!” I yelled. She gasped and turned around. “Steve, shhh…” she whispered. “Some of the patients are sleeping. “Oh, sorry…” She walked over to me. “How are you? Feeling good? Any injuries?” “Hm… now that you mentioned it, I’m surprised that I don’t have any injuries.”  Cindy beamed a huge smile. “I had a splash potion of regeneration in my personal chest at home. I used it on you while you slept.” “You did? No wonder.” “That was my last one. I was saving it for a special situation, and I guess saving a friend from pain is a pretty good reason to use it.” “Aw… thank you so much, Cindy.” “You’re welcome, Steve. So, are you here to help today?” “Help?” “Yeah, help with the wounded?” “Uh, um, sure. Yeah, I can help, but actually, I wanted to speak with you about something.” “Oh? What’s up?” “Well…” I explained to Cindy about what happened. “Oh, no… so she wouldn’t change Paul right away?” asked the potioneer. I shook my head. “I begged her, but she absolutely refused.” “Aw…” “So, I was wondering if you could give it a try?” “You want me to ask her to change Paul into a warlock?” “Yeah, could you do that for me? As a favor?” “Well, of course I’d be willing to, but what about Paul? Is he okay with this plan?” Cindy asked. “I think Paul will be way easier to convince once Wanda is on board.” Cindy nodded. “You’re right. Okay, my shift here doesn’t end for another few hours. I’ll head over to Wanda’s afterward.” “Yass!

If you are on the road to hell, you can continue your journey for a while for the sake of obtaining some interesting experience, but don't forget to make a U-turn before the end of the road!

Each time you feel a negative thought come your way, imagine yourself behind the wheel in your car and take a U-turn towards a positive thought instead. You get to choose the direction you take when responding to life. The scenic route of your mind can be very relaxing and enjoyable. Your chosen response is empowering.

I TRACED FROM NEHRU TO WHAT I WAS DOING AND NO ONE COULD SAY IT WAS A SUDDEN SHIFT OR U-TURN. YOU CAN’T AFFORD U-TURNS IN THIS COUNTRY. IF YOU UNDERSTAND THE GROUND YOU ARE STANDING ON IS IN MOTION, THE TURNING BECOMES EASIER P.V. NARASIMHA RAO

The most nerve-wracking trading moment isn't when you're in the red. It's when you're just one step from your target, and the stock decides to U-turn right back to your stop loss!

Volterra,’ Olivia announced in a flat, icy voice. VOLTERRA- WE BEGAN THE STEEP CLIMB, AND THE ROAD GREW CONGESTED. As we wound higher, the cars became too close together for Olivia to weave insanely between them anymore. We slowed to a crawl behind a little tan Peugeot. ‘Olivia,’ I moaned. The clock on the dash seemed to be speeding up. ‘It's the only way in,’ she tried soothing me. But her voice was too strained to comfort. The cars continued to edge forward, one car length at a time. The sun beamed down brilliantly, seeming already overhead. The cars crept one by one toward the city. As we got closer, I could see cars parked by the side of the road with people getting out to walk the rest of the way. At first- I thought it was just impatience-something I could easily understand. But then we came around a switchback, and I could see the filled parking lot outside the city wall, the crowds of people walking through the gates. No one was being allowed to drive through. ‘Olivia,’ I whispered urgently. ‘I know,’ she said. Her face was chiseled from ice. Now that I was looking, and we were crawling slowly enough to see, I could tell that it was very windy. The people crowding toward the gate gripped their hats and tugged their hair out of their faces. Their clothes billowed around them. I also noticed that red was everywhere. Red shirts, red hats, red flags dripping like long ribbons beside the gate, whipping in the wind as I watched, the brilliant crimson scarf one woman had tied around her hair was caught in a sudden gust. It twisted up into the air above her, writhing like it was alive. She reached for it, jumping in the air, but it continued to flutter higher, a patch of bloody color against the dull, ancient walls. ‘Bell.’ Olivia spoke swiftly in a fierce, deep voice. ‘I can't see what the guard here will decide now-if this doesn't work, you're going to have to go in alone. You're going to have to run. Just keep running in the course they tell you to. Don't get lost.’ I repeated what I had said- the name repeatedly, trying to get it down. ‘Or 'the clock tower,' if they speak English. I'll go around and try to find a secluded spot somewhere behind the city where I can go over the wall.’ I nodded two times… ‘Marcel will be under the clock tower, to the north of the square. There's a narrow alleyway on the right, and he'll be in the shadow there. You have to get his attention before he can move into the sun.’ I nodded furiously. Olivia was near the front of the line. A man in a navy-blue uniform was directing the flow of traffic, turning the cars away from the full lot. They U-turned and headed back to find a place beside the road. Then it was Olivia's turn…

License plates were a huge status symbol in China. There were many different license plates on the streets of Beijing. There were military plates from the different services. There were plates from Party headquarters in Zhongnanhai. There were black plates for foreigners. The plates constituted a language of their own. And with Beijing’s streets constantly jammed, having high-status plates was a must. With the right plates, you could cruise down the bus-only lane, drive on sidewalks, make an illegal U-turn, run a red light, and park in a no-parking zone near a favored restaurant.

She had a sudden longing to stop the car and go up to a cottage and ask to sit by the fire and forget about the whole blasted business. Then she thought that perhaps she should make a U-turn, go to the vicarage and use her friend, Mrs. Bloxby, as a sounding board. She slowly eased the car round on the icy road and headed back into Carsely. Ten minutes later, Agatha was ensconced in the vicarage drawing room in front of a log fire with a cup of tea in one hand and a buttered scone in the other. Mrs. Bloxby sat quietly with her hands folded in her lap, listening intently.

That’s because I know that while we were drinking and sleeping together, our poor son was getting beaten senseless behind some bushes at the park, and it was so bad that even his friends couldn’t help him. Talk about the afternoon taking a very dramatic U-turn, so much so that my head is spinning and I’m almost feeling as dazed and confused as my son must be from the blows he took from Mason.

Choosing not to take a U-turn is a small sacrifice when weighed against the precious lives of others.

But where is the effort to fix the food? It would not take much for us to solve these individual and global problems in one fell swoop. All it takes is one big U-turn back to where we came from. Back to our roots. Back to what we once knew was healthy and natural: a diet based on starches and other plants, including fruits and vegetables. At the root of both human and environmental health is what we eat. Food is plentiful. We just need to choose the Starch Solution.

The other distinctive thing about them, and the reason I like to go to Hazlitt's, is that they cannot bear to admit that they don't know the location of something they feel they ought to know, like a hotel, which I think is rather sweet. to become a London cab driver you have to master something called The Knowledge--in effect, learn every street, hospital, hotel, police station, cricket ground, cemetery, and other notable landmarks in this amazingly vast and confusing city. It takes years and the cabbies are justifiably proud of their achievement. It would kill them to admit that there could exist in central London a hotel that they have never heard of. So what the cabbie does is probe. He drives in no particular direction for a block or two, then glances at you in the mirror and in an over casual voice says, “Hazlitt’s–that’s the one on Curzon Street, innit, guv? Opposite the Blue Lion?” But the instant he sees a knowing smile of demure forming on your lips, he hastily says, “No, hang on a minute, I’m thinking of Hazelbury. Yeah, Hazelbury. You want Hazlitt’s, right?” He’ll drive on a bit in a fairly random direction. “That’s this side of Shepherd’s Bush, innit?” he’ll suggest speculatively. When you tell him that it’s on Frith Street, he says, “Yeah, that’s the one. Course it is. I know it–modern place, lots of glass.” “Actually, it’s an eighteenth-century brick building.” “Course it is. I know it.” And he immediately executes a dramatic U-turn, causing a passing cyclist to steer into a lamppost (but that’s all right because he has on cycle clips and one of those geeky slip-stream helmets that all but invite you to knock him over). “Yeah you had me thinking of the Hazelbury,” the driver adds, chuckling as if to say it’s a lucky thing he sorted that one out for you, and then lunges down a little side street off the Strand called Running Sore Lane or Sphincter Passage, which, like so much else in London, you had never noticed was there before. Hazlitt’s is a nice hotel, but the thing I like about it is that it doesn’t act like a hotel. It’s been there for years, and the employees are friendly–always a novelty in a big-city hotel– but they do manage to give the slight impression that they haven’t been doing this for very long. Tell them that you have a reservation and want to check in and they get a kind of panicked look and begin a perplexed search through drawers for registration cards and room keys. It’s really quite charming. And the delightful girls who cleans the rooms–which, let me say, are always spotless and exceedingly comfortable–seldom seem to have what might be called a total command of English, so that when you ask them for a bar of soap or something you see that they are watching your mouth closely and then, pretty generally, they return after a bit with a hopeful look bearing a potted plant or a commode or something that is manifestly not soap. It’s a wonderful place. I wouldn’t go anywhere else.

I’d never forgive myself for what I did, but it had been necessary. Protecting Sofia was far more important than my own selfish desires. She was always so innocent, lost in an imaginary world that only an artist could know. It was never my place to tell her about her family—to bring that darkness into her life—and if I’d tried to keep her and my secrets, the inevitable breakup would have been even more catastrophic. I had abandoned that path, and now a detour had rerouted me back down the same dead end. This time, there were no exits or U-turns. I couldn’t reverse my way out of this. This time, we would see just how it would play out—every last gory detail.

The fifth, in a rumpled plaid suit and plastic devil mask, plunked a ukulele. Even without the Satan-head mask, I realized Hawaii was a hell of a long way from Mexico, and I didn’t freeze, didn’t pause, just made a U-turn and cut back through the crowd. The last thing I saw was Ski Mask Guy’s neck twisting in my direction. I flew down the hall and then remembered that I was in the Commodore, and that the name of the Outfit-run hotel probably began with the third letter in the alphabet for a reason. I stepped around a corner and stared at a wall covered in flocked wallpaper. The pattern was end-to-end diamond shapes with small raised C’s in the middle. I pushed one, and then another, and another—I realized Ski Mask Guy would be rounding the corner any second—and pushed another, and one more, and then I thought screw it and took a fire extinguisher from the wall, listened for galumphing footsteps, and stepped out swinging. I nailed him at solar plexus level. He staggered backward groping at air, caught himself, and charged. I went low on the next shot, kneecapping him, and he squealed like a debutante. And then I was gone, down the hallway, pushing through the revolving door briefcase-first and sprinting for the Lincoln, yelling, “Al! Throw me the keys!” “Head’s up, Al!” he said, flipping them through the air. I snagged them, leaped in, and called out, “Thanks, Al!” “My pleasure! Watch your back, Al!” I roared from the curb, waved from the window, and hoped for more Als just like him

Make a u-turn, when you see you have traveled on the wrong path.

I first saw you as you crossed the street. It was then that my heart began a brand new beat. As I continued to drive, I felt a deep inside yearn, I immediately looked for an opportunity to make a U-turn.

My Uber driver in Sacramento was not like my San Franciso Uber from earlier that day at SFO. My SAC Uber driver’s first presdential election was JFK-Nixon (or Eisenhower in 1956) and he was already drawing a Social Security check. "Father Time" overshot my fixed location (twice) and then didn’t listen to the navigation instructions. This guy’s signature move (and totem animal) is a U-Turn, a mile past the original juncture.

I typed the winery address into the GPS and then proceeded to pull out of the rental company driveway. I screeched and slammed on the brakes every four feet until I got out onto the street. There was going to be a learning curve. The GPS lady successfully got me over the Golden Gate, but I didn’t get to enjoy one minute of it. Paranoid that I was going to hit a pedestrian or a cyclist or launch myself off the massive bridge, I couldn’t take my eyes off of the car in front of me. Once I was out of the city, I spotted a Wendy’s and pulled off the highway. GPS lady started getting frantic. “Recalculating. Head North on DuPont for 1.3 miles.” I did a quick U-turn to get to the other side of the freeway and into the loving arms of a chocolate frosty. “Recalculating.” Shit. Shut up, lady. I was frantically hitting buttons until I was able to finally silence her. I made a right turn and then another turn immediately into the Wendy’s parking lot and into the drive-thru line. I glanced at the clock. It was three forty. I still had time. I pulled up to the speaker and shouted, “I’ll take a regular French fry and a large chocolate frosty.” Just then, I heard a very loud, abbreviated siren sound. Whoop. I looked into my rearview mirror and spotted the source. It was a police officer on a motorcycle. What’s he doing? I sat there waiting for the Wendy’s speaker to confirm my order, and then again, Whoop. “Ma’am, please pull out of the drive-thru and off to the side.” What’s going on? I quickly rolled the window all the way down, stuck my head out, and peered around until the policeman was in my view. “Are you talking to me?” To my absolute horror, he used the speaker again. “Yes, ma’am, I am talking to you. Please pull out of the drive-thru.” Holy shit, I’m being pulled over in a Wendy’s drive-thru. “Excuse me, Wendy’s people? You need to scratch that last order.” A few seconds went by and then a young man’s voice came over the speaker. “Yeah, we figured that,” he said before bursting into laughter and cutting the speaker off. The policeman was very friendly and seemed to find a little humor in the situation as well. Apparently I had made an illegal right turn at a red light just before I pulled into the parking lot. After completely and utterly humiliating me, he let me off with a warning, which was nice, but I still didn’t have a frosty. Pulling my old Chicago Cubs cap from my bag, I decided that nothing was going to get in the way of my beloved frosty. Going incognito, I made my way through the door. Apparently the cap was not enough because the Justin Timberlake–looking fellow behind the counter could not contain himself. “Hi,” I said. “Hi, what can I get you?” he said, and then he clapped his hand over his mouth, struggling to hold back a huge amount of laughter and making gagging noises in the back of his throat in the process. “Can I get an extra-large chocolate frosty please, and make it snappy.” “Do you still want the fries with that?” There was more laughter and then I heard laughter from the back as well. “No, thank you.” I paid, grabbed my cup, and hightailed it out of there.

Take John Kerry’s much-ridiculed assertion that he was for the Iraq War before he was against it. Now, there is a case to be made that this was a perfectly legitimate political trajectory to traverse. Almost all of us know people who underwent a comparable change of heart. And many of us are such people: of the 76 percent of Americans who supported the war at its outset in 2003, fully half had withdrawn that support by 2007. In the intervening years, after all, new information had become available to the public, the on-the-ground situation in Iraq had changed, and the credibility of the Bush Administration had waned. The hope that we were bringing a better life to the Iraqi people had grown increasingly difficult to sustain. And the cost of the war—in literal dollars, human lives, and America’s diminished moral status in the international community—had far exceeded anything anyone could have imagined on the day in 2003 that Bush declared “Mission Accomplished.” Surely, then, this was a situation that merited the high-minded if somewhat sneering riposte of John Maynard Keynes: “When the facts change, I change my mind. What do you do, sir?” Keynes’s policy is a good one. But, like Kerry’s U-turns, it is at odds with an enduring and troubling feature of our political culture. In politics, staying the course is admired (and changing direction is denigrated) intrinsically—that is, without regard to where the course itself might lead.

Exhaustive analysis of the findings indicated principles to improve in-store visibility. Based on these, Guinness created a prototype fixture and installed it in test stores, as shown in Figure 2.1. The extruding fins were highly visible, ensuring that the offer would reach shoppers at the end of the aisle. The fins also broke the linear nature of the aisle, helping to stop shoppers by the display. Product layout was clear and authoritative. All these elements were within the cone of vision. Strong brand block and the use of signpost products reduced visual “noise,” strengthened impact, and acted as guides around the fixture. Figure 2.1 This Guinness display, using fins to break the aisle, helped stop shoppers and increase sales dramatically. Guinness monitored checkout scanner data in the test stores. It then modified the design in response to these findings and installed the display in various retail sites. Guinness then installed the new display in ten sites and identified another ten control sites for a formal test. The new fixture increased sales dramatically. Why? The new display was able to pull customers through the three moments of truth: reaching, stopping, and closing the sale. The fixture made stout easier to find in this busy category, so the display reached out to shoppers. The time until the first customer interaction decreased from an average of 38 seconds to 11 seconds. The majority of stout purchasers went straight to the fixture, so it did a better job stopping them in front of the display. The total average visit time reduced from 2.08 minutes to 1.53 minutes, indicating that it is easier to shop from the new fixture. U-turning in the middle of the aisle halved, to only 24 percent. More customers were now shopping the whole aisle. And, finally, these customers bought Guinness in much higher numbers. In the test stores, Guinness draught sales increased by 25 percent in value and 24 percent in volume. Total stout sales grew by 10 percent and total beer sales by 4 percent

Carl, my erstwhile buddy, casually tossed me under the bus, saying to Mike, “U-Turn here says he can’t lift it.

Money should serve the human spirit...not the other way around....Make A $ (YOU-Turn) 2-Day (today)!

There is no U-turn in life, what is done, is done, what you have missed, you missed. You can't go back and revisit it

Whether he liked it or not, he had to respect Jamie’s decision, no matter how pissed off at Jamie he was for ending their friendship in such a way. And he was pissed off. Never mind that rationally he knew that Jamie had done the right thing—they couldn’t go on like that—but the way Jamie had handled the situation was shitty. First, Jamie had claimed that the sex would change nothing and didn’t have to mean anything; then, after using him like some glorified dildo to get his rocks off, Jamie made a full U-turn and kicked him out of his life over the fucking phone.

The four keys to discovering God's will are the following: 1. Learning To Listen. 2. Learning To Trust. 3. Staying On Course. 4. U-Turns Allowed.

We travel on a one-way road. We can’t make a U-turn and go back. We cannot undo what we have done. We do not have the power to turn back the hands of time nor to stop the clock from ticking. When things do not seem to go our way, we can either make the best out of an unfortunate situation, or we just leave it behind and let it affect us later on, or just simply let go.

MATTHEW 18 [†] t At that time the disciples came to Jesus, saying, “Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” 2And calling to him a child, he put him in the midst of them 3and said, “Truly, I say to you, unless you  u turn and  v become like children, you  w will never enter the kingdom of heaven. 4 x Whoever humbles himself like this child is the  w greatest in the kingdom of heaven. 5 y “Whoever receives one such child in my name receives me, 6but  z whoever causes one of these  a little ones who believe in me to sin, [1] it would be better for him to have a great millstone fastened around his neck and to be drowned in the depth of the sea. Temptations to Sin 7“Woe to the world for  b temptations to sin! [2]  c For it is necessary that temptations come,  d but woe to the one by whom the temptation comes!

I also told him about the dramatic, vivid verbal picture of God that the nuns drew for us—an enormous, slightly dangerous and very touchy guy with white hair and a long white beard. “It’s all the talk of feeble minds,” he whispered to me in confidence. “Those nuns know as much about prayer as they do about sex. Listen to me, now. God is everywhere and alive in everything, while them nuns figured God is as good as dead, a recluse in a permanently bad mood. Well, I refuse to believe that to my God, my maker and creator, my life is little more than a dice game.” He stopped and turned and looked at me and said, “Never believe that a life full of sin puts you on a direct route to hell. Even if you only know a little bit about God, you learn pretty quick that he’s big on U-turns, dead stops and starting over again.” As each day passes and my memories of Father O’Leary and Sister Emmarentia fade, and I can no longer recall their faces or the sounds of their voices as clearly as I could a decade ago, what remains, clear and uncluttered, are the lessons I took from them.

If you're going down the street and you're going the wrong way, remember- God permits U-turns

the nature of science is not that of a steady, linear progression toward the Truth, but rather a tortuous road, often characterized by dead ends and U-turns, and yet ultimately inching toward a better, if tentative, understanding of the natural world.

Father in heaven, we confess to you that we don’t pray as we ought. Ignite our hearts with the fiery darts of your Spirit to enable us to pray. Create in us a life of unceasing prayer. Stoke the fire of prayer in our church to a new intensity so that we are changed, as well as the people around us. Jesus, we lift up your name; we plead with you to draw people to yourself. Turn our church around for your glory, now and forevermore! In Jesus’ name. Amen.

David pulled a U-turn and re-traced their previous route to the church. Traffic on Queen Anne Blvd was heavy; making a left turn would be difficult. David hit the lights and blasted the siren a twice to safely navigate the left turn, and headed north up the steep hill. He gunned the Charger, and activated the siren several more times to clear slow cars ahead. Traffic moved to the right. A pale Dustin sat quietly on the passenger side. They crested Queen Anne hill, passing by Olympia’s Pizza on the right. A few drops of rain splattered on the windshield. David eased off the accelerator as pedestrians failed to notice their red and blue strobe lights and crossed the street in front of them. Another yelp of the siren startled a teenager in a mini skirt.

The second part of Jesus message is this: now that He has died to set all men and women free from sin and eternal death, we must respond in repentance. To repent means to confess and forsake our sins – to do a U-turn away from our sinful behavior and turn to Jesus in faith.  It means to stop sinning.  It means to willfully choose to live holy lives.

Davin’s house is just across the road from mine. Ella drops him off, makes a quick U-turn, then pulls into my driveway. “He’s really hot, sweetie. Let me know right now if you want him, or he’s mine,” she says with an exaggerated drawl. “For heaven’s sake, I just met the guy today.” “Yeah, me too,” she says with a smirk.

Aedus reached into the center console and pulled out a pair of sunglasses. There was hardly a cloud in the sky. He drove for ten minutes before the helicopter came in sight, gradually descending towards the airport in his opposite direction. He looked around for a place to make a U-turn, but there was no legal turn available. Aedus sighed. The things a good guy has to do. He made a turn onto a side road and looped back around, tires squealing. In an action movie he’d just make a U-turn wherever, speed down the road, and weave in and out of traffic. Alas, this wasn’t an action movie and he wasn’t a certain Jason Bour—no time to think about that. The airport was coming up quick and as bustling as ever.

A weathered black and silver Dodge pickup towing a small motorboat pulled up behind us, and Alex circled back to greet the driver. I couldn’t see who sat behind the crusted and dirty windshield, but Alex stood at the driver’s window and pointed down the block where the boulevard disappeared into floodwater. The truck pulled ahead, maneuvered a deft U-turn, and backed toward the water. Alex motioned for me to follow. By the time I lurched my way to the truck, he and the pickup driver were sliding the boat down the trailer ramp. Sweat trickled down my neck, and if I hadn’t been afraid of being poisoned by toxic sludge, I’d have made like a pig and wallowed in the mud to cool off. I kicked at a fire hydrant, trying to jolt some of the heaviest sludge off my boots, and heard a soft laugh behind me. With a final kick that sent a spray of brown gunk flying, I turned to see what was so funny. I needed a laugh. A man leaned against the side of the pickup with his arms crossed. He was a few inches shorter than Alex, maybe just shy of six feet, with sun-streaked blond hair that reached his collar and a sleeveless blue T-shirt and khaki shorts. His tanned legs between the bottom of the shorts and the top of sturdy black shrimp boots were scored with scars, bad ones, as if whatever made them meant to do serious damage. He’d been grinning when I turned around, flashing a heart-stopping set of dimples, but when he saw my eyes linger on his legs, the grin eased into something more wary.

At this point, while the girls chatted on over the fence in the rear side lot, people began to notice things.  A buggy with two men in it made a U-turn and stopped in front of the Kelly cottage.

Receptive prayer is one of the most powerful weapons against spiritual u-turns.

The answer reached the President at five minutes past four that afternoon, Tuesday, August 14. Japan had surrendered. At 6:10 the Swiss chargé d'affaires in Washington arrived at the State Department to present Secretary [of State James] Byrnes with the Japanese text, which Byrnes carried at once to the White House. "(The document would have arrived ten minutes sooner but for the fact that a sixteen-year-old messenger, Thomas E. Jones, who picked it up at the RCA offices on Connecticut Avenue to deliver to the Swiss legation, had been stopped by the police for making a U-turn on Connecticut.)

U-turn for climate change, not possible; right turn, with or by right drivers, definitely is.

Shadow On The Lake by Stewart Stafford Neighbour coughing up phlegm, As Stefan began his morning jog, With an elderly shadow escort, His stooping gait shocked him. Outcast sleeper in their lakeside car, Windows fogged with condensation, Homeless sightseer or lost tourist? Absconded prisoner, lovers entwined? He left the stranger(s) undisturbed, Pulling a sharp U-turn at the lake, His aged shape still fleet of foot, Dormant fugitive(s) eating his dust. © Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.

Honestly? I’m happy I went to a Catholic school,” Lucas said, as he did a U-turn in traffic, looking over his shoulder. “Got a decent education and developed a dirty mind, which is one of the unstated benefits of a Catholic education. My women friends have greatly appreciated that.

At any time, you realize you are walking on the wrong way, make a U-turn to travel on the right path.

The struggle is part of life to progress. More than physical, the mental struggle is required for my stronger tomorrow. This Struggle should be enough to keep me burning, enlighten my dark corners but definitely, it’s foolish to continue if it is burning me out. Further scenarios change and I should revisit the holiness of my intention. It is wise to immediately make a U-turn and stop efforts if I realize the intention is not justified.

Explain that to me! Cows? I sighed buying time to think. Cows or oxen or donkeys or idiot peasants or whatever you call thse damned animals that almost killed us! They didn’t have lights and they were going very, very slowly through an impossible fog. And wait, joder, I can’t believe it, there ahead of us is a truck right across the road, trying to make a U-turn! Are all Chileans crazy?

A dead end is not an end. It is an indicator of taking a U-turn and choosing a different path.

Sergio, I don’t understand my life.” “Darling, just go with it.” Sergio backed out before he flipped the car in a quick U-turn. “You’re in Vista de Lirio now. This is only the third-weirdest thing to happen to one of my neighbors this month.

A U-turn can never cover recklessness, omission, ignorance, and idiocy; the wise and vigilant do not adopt such omissions and blunders; otherwise, a U-turn disfigures a political image and determination. It is the immaturity of vigilance and knowledge.

The Way by Maisie Aletha Smikle There is one Way And only one Way To get to God our heavenly Father The Way is through His only Son Not many ways are there only one If you are on your way But did not go through the Son Then you are lost Turn and make a U-turn Then go straight Turn neither to the left or right The street is narrow The road is a one-way street The arrow points in only one direction There are no roundabouts There are no intersections Continue till you reach your destination Refuel frequently with prayer Lest Lucifer gets you off track And recalibrate your GPS So you lose your way With Lucifer you are lost Lucifer is not the Way nor the Truth Neither is he Life or the Light Jesus is the Way Jesus is the Truth Jesus is the Life Jesus is the Light

Never argue with GPS. "If we just make a U-turn here, then we can..." GPS doesn't care.

Clay trudged to the rear of the midway and the sanctuary of his trailer. He contemplated the warnings that littered his road to perdition: a call for a U-turn when he got puffed up with false pride. A sharp curve in the road had tried to turn him away from his sinful pursuit of the almighty dollar. He’d crossed that blighted bridge going a hundred miles an hour and had stood helpless as the grotesque outstretched arms of salvation struggled in vain to pull him back.

planks. The van pulled into the parking lot, did a quick u-turn, and backed itself up to the main doors with a huff of gas. There the vehicle idled for a few moments, wary, ready

I hate this thing. I’ve been using it for a while, but the other day I had to make an illegal U-turn and it knocked me out when it slapped me across the face. I just ended up giving it to my sister.

You can always take a U-turn in life.

Christopher came to believe that the people who understood the dangers posed by radical Islam were on the right, that his erstwhile comrades on the left were arranging with one another to miss what seemed to him like a pretty obvious point; and so, never one to do things by halves, he made what looked to many people like a U-turn