Varian Quotes

Sprawled across the top like a snake lay a familiar necklace of diamonds and rubies. I’d seen it before—in Tarquin’s trove. “How … what?” Amren smiled to herself. “Varian sent it to me. To soften Tarquin’s declaration of our blood feud.” I’d thought the rubies would need to be worn by a mighty female—and could think of no mightier female than the one before me. “Did you and Varian … ?” “Tempting, but no. The prick can’t decide if he hates or wants me.” “Why can’t it be both?” A low chuckle. “Indeed.

Tarquin turned from the table, just as the tent flaps parted for a pair of broad shoulders— Varian. He didn’t so much as look at his High Lord, his focus going right to where Amren sat at the head of the table. As if he’d sensed she was here—or someone had reported. And he’d come running. Amren’s eyes flicked up from the Book as Varian halted. A coy smile curved her red lips. There was still blood and dirt splattered on Varian’s brown skin, coating his silver armor and close-cropped white hair. He didn’t seem to notice or care as he strode for Amren. And none of us dared to speak as Varian dropped to his knees before Amren’s chair, took her shocked face in his broad hands, and kissed her soundly. ... None of us lasted long after dinner. Amren and Varian didn’t even bother to join us. No, she’d just wrapped her legs around his waist, right there in front of us, and he’d stood, lifting her in one swift movement. I wasn’t entirely sure how Varian managed to walk them out of the tent while still kissing her, Amren’s hands dragging through his hair, letting out noises that were unnervingly like purring as they vanished into the camp. Rhys had let out a low laugh as we all gawked in their wake. “I suppose that’s how Varian decided he’d tell Amren he was feeling rather grateful she ordered us to go to Adriata.” Tarquin cringed. “We’ll alternate who has to deal with them on holidays.

Habis ini, lalu apa? Kamu sendirian. Aku sendirian. Kenapa kita tidak berdua lagi saja? Apa artinya cinta yang tidak lagi sama? Memang cinta itu ada berapa macam?" Aku tidak tau cinta ada berapa macam varian. Kau harus bertanya pada hatiku, karena dialah yang satu hari menutup dan mengucap, "cukup". Yang kutahu, cinta ini tersendat, dan hatiku seperti mau mati pengap. Kendati kusayang kamu lebih dari siapa pun yang kutahu. "Enam tahun. Kita akan buang enam tahun itu begitu saja?" Otakku merekam dan menyimpan kamu, kita, dan enam tahun ini. Hati tidak pernah menyimpan apa-apa. Ia menyalurkan segalanya. "Kamu akan menyesal..." Mungkin. Kini kita tak mungkin tahu.

Wait -- you kissed a girl you didn't like, tried to make me jealous, and almost got kicked out of school -- and you still didn't learn how to dance?' She looked at the ceiling. 'Why are boys so stupid?

Just because you don't see the path, doesn't mean it's not there.

Holy Christ, the look on your face,” Xavier growled. “I want to fucking devour you. Like parents have that urge to eat their young.

Just because he doesn't want to hear it doesn't mean you shouldn't say it.

Varian cringed as Merewyn faced him. If he looked half as bad as he suspected, he wouldn’thave blamed her had she run for the door. “You don’t have to do this.” She stepped into his arms. “Yes, Varian, I do.” She brushed the matted hair back from his face. “I don’t care what you look like. It’s you I love, not your looks. Your humor, your kindness, even that little snuffle snore you make when you sleep.” “I don’t snore.” She laughed. “Yes, you do.” And with that she pulled his lips to hers.

A billion hours ago, modern Homo sapiens emerged. A billion minutes ago, Christianity began. A billion seconds ago, the IBM personal computer was released. A billion Google searches ago… was this morning. —HAL VARIAN, GOOGLE’S CHIEF ECONOMIST, DECEMBER 20, 2013

Harlow insisted that I need a best man for this ceremony. You are the best man that I know, so you must fill this position.” “What does a best man do?” Varian shrugs. “Stand next to me and be better than the other men?” We both frown as we contemplate these strange human customs.

Which side is yours?” “They're both mine,” he answered mirthfully, having gotten a good bit of teasing over the years for his indiscriminate sprawling. “Take whichever side you like, and be prepared to defend it.

The look of someone who knows that in taking what she wants, she will be leaving something of herself behind.

Laki-laki selai kacang, laki-laki permen karet stroberi, laki-laki stroberi varian flamboyan. Lalu, apa jenis stroberi untukku, Aggi?

This reflects the career advice that Google chief economist Hal Varian frequently gives: seek to be an indispensable complement to something that’s getting cheap and plentiful.

Varian, please. I didn't mean what I said.' 'Of course you didn't,' he said snidely. 'No one ever does. People always speak without thought. But it's amazing how much damage thoughtless words can wreak, isn't it?

Sometimes, I feel like I connect more deeply with the characters in novels than with people I meet in real life. Maybe because in novels you get to read their thoughts. In life, you never know what people are thinking.

Don’t bother answering him,’ Amren said to Varian, sipping from her own wine. ‘Cassian is precisely as stupid as he looks. And sounds,’ she added with a slashing glance. Cassian lifted his glass in salute before drinking.

Varian sat silent for a moment, his hands between his knees. "All my life I've enjoyed perfect privilege," he said. "American, rich, Protestant, Harvard-educated. I could walk down the street anywhere and feel, God help me, like a master.

I don’t care how many courses you take or how many books you read. You’ll never understand what it means to be a Negro. You’ll never face the discrimination they see every day. You’ll never struggle the way they do. Now, enough talking. Here comes Dub.

Merewyn was a little more rational. “Perhaps we should whisper amongst ourselves and make them wonder what we speak of?” Blaise wagged his eyebrows at her before he pulled her into his arms. “Works well for me. Put your arms around my neck, and I’ll breathe in your ear.” Varian put the blade of his sword between them. “You can whisper from there.” Blaise appeared appalled. “What are you? An old maid?” “I promised her my protection.” The mandrake shook his head. “You’re gay, aren’t you?” Varian raised the blade to rest against Blaise’s Adam’s apple. He carefully pressed it close. Not so much that it drew blood, but enough to let him know that he wasn’t amused. “Or not.” Varian used the blade to push him away from Merewyn. His gaze met hers, and he felt the heat of his desire for her all the way through his body. At the moment, he wished he were gay. Then she wouldn’t tempt him so. “Or not. Definitely or not.

Varian rubbed the back of his head where his lump was growing significantly. “Not that I particularly want to defend Merrick, but those little rocks did happen to hurt. Thank the gods for armor.” Merewyn gave him a sweet, sympathetic pout. “Poor baby.” She reached up to rub his sore spot, but honestly he’d much rather have her rub something else that was bothering him. The touch of her hand made his entire body break out into chills. Not to mention that the smell of her so close played total havoc with his hormones. He honestly wanted to curl up beside her and start purring like a cat. More than that, he had a vicious need to nibble her body until he was drunk on her scent. And there was a thought that made him glad he was wearing his armor again since it kept his erection hidden from the ones around him. Stepping away from her before he actually did purr, he looked at Merrick. “What other nasty surprises do we have in store for us?

Hal Varian, the chief economist at Google, reckons that free search via Google is worth $150 billion a year to users; of course he would say that, but his calculations seem reasonable. The economist Michael Mandel has estimated that “data” or information needs to be added as a third category to the traditional distinction between goods and services.

Look alive, Greencloaks,” Abeke said, reloading her bow. “We’re under attack.

Good luck, my lor—uh, Devin—I mean, Worthy.

There's nothing wrong with being a feminist," Grandma said. "Don't you two want women to have the same rights as men?" Both Myron and I nodded. "Good, then you're feminists.

The best programs are the ones written when the programmer is supposed to be working on something else.

Brandon said. “I guess I like boy books.” What does that even mean? Candice wanted to ask. Books about guns and war? Books that only contain boys?

The forest was, Devan thought, strangely lovely that day, the way a woman can seem more beautiful when she is sad.

But a male voice pleaded from behind, 'Don't.' Varian appeared from the rocky path, gasping for breath, splattered with blood. Amren smirked. 'Like a hound on a scent.' 'Don't,' was all Varian said. 'Unleash me,' Amren said, ignoring him. 'Let me end this.' I began shaking my head. 'You- you will be gone. You said you won't remember us, won't be you anymore if you're freed.

Nesta didn't care that she was covered in sweat, wearing her leathers amongst a bejewelled crowd. Not as she staggered onto the veranda at the top of the House and gaped at the stars raining across the bowl of the sky. They zoomed by so close some sparked against the stones, leaving glowing dust in their wake. She had a vague sense of Cassian and Mor and Azriel nearby, of Feyre and Rhys and Lucien, of Elain and Varian and Helion. Of Kallias and Viviane, also swollen with child and glowing with joy and strength. Nesta smiled in greeting and left them blinking, but she forgot them within a moment because the stars, the stars, the stars... She hadn't realised that such beauty existed in the world. That she might feel so full from wonder it could hurt, like her body couldn't contain all of it. And she didn't know why she cried then, but the tears began rolling down her face. The world was beautiful, and she was so grateful to be in it. To be alive, to be here, to see this. She stuck out a hand over the railing, grazing a star as it shot past, and her fingers came away glowing with blue and green dust. She laughed, a sound of pure joy, and she cried more, because that joy was a miracle.

Amren,' Varian said, and sank onto his knees. 'I am begging you-' ... She looked to Varian, a wry smile on her red mouth. 'I watched them most- the humans who loved. I never understood it- how it happened. Why it happened.' She paused a step away from the Cauldron. 'I think I might have learned with you, though. Perhaps that was a last gift, too.' Varian's face twisted with anguish. But he made no further move to stop her.

You were the only ones who came to help. The only ones. And yet you asked for nothing in return. Why?' Rhys's voice was a bit hoarse as he asked, 'Isn't that what friends do?' A subtle, quiet offer. Tarquin took him in. Then me. And the others. 'I rescind the blood rubies. Let there be no debts between us.' 'Don't expect Amren to return hers,' Cassian muttered. 'She's grown attached to it.' I could have sworn a smile tugged at Varian's mouth.

I unscrewed the cap and brought the purple-lined rim to my mouth. Then I almost hacked up a lung. Madeline remained motionless as I struggled for breath. 'So what part of this is supposed to be fun?' I asked. 'Just relax,' she said. 'You can't rush the feeling. It takes a few minutes for the alcohol to take effect.' [...] She sat up and picked up the bottle. 'You having fun yet?' 'Of course. Can't you tell from my labored breathing and the look of pain on my face?

Poverty is not a natural conclusion. It is an intervention. We are not poor because we are inferior as a group of people; we are poor because it is imperative to the global economy that a limitless supply of labor exist. The labor must be cheap and disposable.

The better I understood my education, the angrier I became that most working-class and poor people are denied one. Why are the children of doctors, lawyers, and engineers taught the mysteries of existence while the children of janitors and waitresses are taught fear? I developed a preoccupation with my own inadequacies, aided by a few professors of elitism. To combat my growing anxiety, I began to envision myself a class spy. I would soak up all of the information they could give me and run reconnaissance for my team.

A vine from one tree shot out, tripping Blaise. He and Merewyn rolled to the ground. Varian stood between them and the trees, which shot blast after blast at him. He deflected them, but even so the heat from the fire was scorching. 'Go, Blaise,' he said. 'Get Merewyn out of here.' Blaise nodded before he crawled to Merewyn under the barrage. 'Hold!' The blast stopped as the three of them froze into place. Again the woman appeared in the fire to stare at them maliciously. 'What is it you do?' 'I'm crawling,' Blaise answered.

See!” she snapped at him. “You men are all brutish. You force your strength and will on us as if we matter for naught and then you wonder why we don’tlike ”—she spat the word at him—“you. Really? Is it any wonder? Why would any woman want to subject herself to the male ego? Why?” She looked down at his body as a sudden heat came into her gaze that made him instantly nervous. “Sure, you’re a handsome beastie with kissable lips when they’re not bleeding. You’re fair in form with big, bulging—” He actually cringed in fear of the word “cock” coming out of her mouth again, but luckily she averted her thoughts as her gaze met his. For the first time the despair left her voice. “Your eyes are so beautiful.” She ran one finger over his brow, making him instantly hard for her. “Did you know that?” Then the gloomy tone returned as she dropped her hand from his face. “Of course you do. You’re a worthless man. Just like all the others.” “Yeah,” Blaise teased. “You’re worthless, Varian. And what on him bulges again, Merewyn?” Varian glared at the mandrake, who merely continued to laugh at him. “Everything. His arms, his legs, his—” “Enough, Merewyn,” Varian said from between clenched teeth. “Well, you do bulge. I’ve seen it.” “We’ve all seen it,” Merrick said, his voice filled with humor, “And it’s sickening.” Varian glared at the triplets, especially the ferret, who was laughing and rolling around his brother’s neck. “When she is over this, I’m going to kill all of you.” Merewyn let out a long-suffering sigh. “Of course you will. That’s what men do. They destroy everything. Everything. Because you’re all worthless whoremongers.” Varian winced at her choice of words. “Whoremongers?” Blaise repeated with a laugh. “Yes. You all go out with your giant lances, spearing anything you can find. Nailing your targets against trees and walls, while you gallop from field to field, bragging over your conquests, uncaring of who you’ve hurt while you quest for more glory.” “Good gods,” Merrick said, his face horrified. “Is she speaking of what I think she is?” “Do you mean warmongers?” Varian asked her. “No! Whoremongers. All of you.” She looked over at the triplets. “Especially them.

Madeline, I know we can be a little conservative-' 'Conservative? How about down right mean?' She pointed at me, hard and angry. 'You people are quick to ask forgiveness, but won't think twice about condemning others for the same mistakes.' She shook her head. 'If I was God, I'd be pretty damn ashamed of how fucked up church has gotten.

There exist the wealth and the working class. At Vassar I learned the two are not mutually exclusive. No matter how rich I might become, I will always be the daughter of a janitor. I will always look the woman who empties my garbage in the face. I will always say thank you to the man who serves me lunch. I am one of them, and I do not want to Get Out unless they can come too.

Amren smiled slightly- at me, at Varian. 'I watched them for so many eons. Humans- in my world, there were humans, too. And I watched them love, and hate- wage senseless war and find precious peace. Watched them build lives, build worlds. I was... I was never allowed such things. I had not been designed that way, had not been ordered to do so. So I watched. And that day I came here... it was the first selfish thing I had done. For a long, long while I thought it was punishment for disobeying my Father's orders, for wanting. I thought this world was some hell he'd locked me into for disobedience.' Amren swallowed. 'But I think...I wonder if my Father knew. If he saw how I watched them love and hate and build, and opened that rip in the world not as punishment... but as a gift.' Her eyes gleamed. 'For it has been a gift. This time- with you. With all of you. It has been a gift.

But looking at you was nothing like looking at those pictures. When I first saw,” he said, looking down at her chest, then up again to meet her eyes, “it hurt, almost a physical pain. Since you finished chemo, you've gotten so strong again. Sometimes I almost forget what you've been through. But seeing your scars, they reminded me of your hurt. How you've been cut apart. What you gave up.” It was important, not keeping herself back from him, putting parts of herself off limits. But it stung when he sank down to brush his lips over the two biggest scars. “But your scars are beautiful. I mean, I look at them, and I want to kiss, I want to touch, I feel this tenderness for them. You know how when you love someone, when you've been with them a long time and you know all the little lines and curves and planes of their body, how you look at little parts of them—the corner of their mouth, the back of their hand, the little crease where their earlobe meets their jaw—and you can feel like you're in love with that little piece of them? Maybe soon, I'll look at your scars like that. But right now, it's this feeling I've never had for a part of someone's body, before, because they promise me you're well. That you get to live. That we get to have a long life together.” Her love for him was swelling up in her chest, the way it did sometimes, an ache she wanted to hold on to.

And- there's another surprise.' He pointed with a healed hand toward the Cauldron. 'Someone fish out dear Amren before she catches cold.' Varian whirled toward us. But Mor was sprinting for the Cauldron, and her cry as she reached in- 'How?' I breathed. Azriel and Varian were there, helping Mor heave a waterlogged form out of the dark water. Her chest rose and fell, her features the same, but... 'She was there,' Rhys said. 'When the Cauldron was sealing. Going... wherever we go.' Amren sputtered water, vomiting onto the rocky ground. Mor thumped her back, coaxing her through it. 'So I reached out a hand,' Rhys went on quietly. 'To see if she might want to come back.' And as Amren opened her eyes, as Varian let out a choked sound of relief and joy- I knew- what she had given up to come back. High Fae- and just that. For her silver eyes were solid. Unmoving. No smoke, no burning mist in them. A normal life, no trace of her powers to be seen. And as Amren smiled at me... I wondered if that had been her last gift. If it all... if it all had been a gift.

You hear it, too,” she panted. Hear—I couldn’t hear, but just feel— Amren’s small figure darted around a tent, wearing what looked to be Varian’s shirt. It came down to her knees, and its owner was indeed behind her, bare-chested as Rhys was, and wide-eyed. Amren’s bare feet were splattered in mud and grass. “It came here—its power. I can feel it—slithering around. Looking.” “The Cauldron,” Varian said, brows narrowing. “But—it’s aware?” “We pried too deep,” Amren said. “Battle aside, it knows where we are as much as we now know its location.” Nesta raised a hand. “Listen.” And I heard it then. It was a song and invitation, a cluster of notes sung by a voice that was male and female, young and old, haunting and alluring and— “I can’t hear anything,” Rhys said. “You were not Made,” Amren snapped. But we were. The three of us … Again, the Cauldron sang its siren song. My very bones recoiled. “What does it want?” I felt it pulling away—felt it sliding off into the night. Azriel stepped out of a shadow. “What is that,” he hissed. My brows rose. “You hear it?” A shake of the head. “No—but the shadows, the wind … They recoil.” The Cauldron sang again. Distant—withdrawing. “I think it’s leaving,” I whispered. Cassian stumbled and staggered for us a moment later, a hand braced on his chest, Mor on his heels. She did not so much as look at me, nor I her, as Rhys told them. Standing together in the dead of night— The Cauldron sang one final note—then went silent. The presence, the weight … vanished. Amren loosed a sigh. “Hybern knows where we are by now. The Cauldron likely wanted to have a look for itself. After we taunted it.” I rubbed at my face. “Let’s pray that’s the last we see of it.” Varian angled his head. “So you three … because you were Made, you can hear it? Sense it?” “It would appear so,” Amren said, looking inclined to tug him back to wherever they’d been, to finish what they’d no doubt still been in the middle of doing. But Azriel asked softly, “What about Elain?

For fifteen years, John and Barbara Varian were furniture builders, living on a ranch in Parkfield, California, a tiny town where the welcome sign reads “Population 18.” The idea for a side business came about by accident after a group of horseback riding enthusiasts asked if they could pay a fee to ride on the ranch. They would need to eat, too—could John and Barbara do something about that? Yes, they could. In the fall of 2006, a devastating fire burned down most of their inventory, causing them to reevaluate the whole operation. Instead of rebuilding the furniture business (no pun intended), they decided to change course. “We had always loved horses,” Barbara said, “so we decided to see about having more groups pay to come to the ranch.” They built a bunkhouse and upgraded other buildings, putting together specific packages for riding groups that included all meals and activities. John and Barbara reopened as the V6 Ranch, situated on 20,000 acres exactly halfway between Los Angeles and San Francisco. Barbara’s story stood out to me because of something she said. I always ask business owners what they sell and why their customers buy from them, and the answers are often insightful in more ways than one. Many people answer the question directly—“We sell widgets, and people buy them because they need a widget”—but once in a while, I hear a more astute response. “We’re not selling horse rides,” Barbara said emphatically. “We’re offering freedom. Our work helps our guests escape, even if just for a moment in time, and be someone they may have never even considered before.” The difference is crucial. Most people who visit the V6 Ranch have day jobs and a limited number of vacation days. Why do they choose to visit a working ranch in a tiny town instead of jetting off to lie on a beach in Hawaii? The answer lies in the story and messaging behind John and Barbara’s offer. Helping their clients “escape and be someone else” is far more valuable than offering horse rides. Above all else, the V6 Ranch is selling happiness.

Jeremy has been trained,” Gordon told them in a strained voice. “If I let him see my cock, and I'm hard, he goes down on me. Unless or until I tell him not to.” Gordon's belly quivered in and out ....... “You are my good boy, aren't you?” he sighed down to Jeremy then. “Even in front of them. I wish you could Krylov, Varian (2008-05-19). Abduction (Kindle Locations 9070-9072). eXcessica. Kindle Edition.

There's something, for me, in being confronted by my lack of control. Of feeling that I'm at the mercy of another. Another's will, another's wants. Not because I want to feel... used. Or objectified. It's more like..." It was hard to put into words, no matter how many times she'd worked it out in her head. "… like going beyond myself. My own impulses, my desires, my limits, and finding something beyond." Krylov, Varian (2008-05-19). Abduction (Kindle Locations 9209-9212). eXcessica. Kindle Edition.(

I'm not a masochist. I don't want to be hurt. Or injured. Just... pushed. I want that sort of... effacement, I guess... where my rationality is dissolved by sensation, emotion, adrenaline, all that. Like when you bike or run, and you think you've hit the wall and have to stop because your lungs don't seem to be able to suck in enough air, your heart is pounding so hard it hurts, and your legs feel soft, like you're just going to fall down. But you keep going, and after a while, it's almost like floating. Like you're apart from your body, but at the same time you feel, hear, see everything with this unfamiliar intensity. Or when you eat too much chili pepper or wasabe, and you feel your body respond, it's not a thought process. Your veins throb, you sweat, there's a weird euphoria. And there's pain, too. You can't stop it. You just have to wait for it to pass, and while you do, you, your reality is subsumed in the... transcendence of the pain. Krylov, Varian (2008-05-19). Abduction (Kindle Locations 9214-9221). eXcessica. Kindle Edition.

As Hal Varian told me, “Relying on data helps out everyone. Senior executives shouldn’t be wasting time debating whether the best background color for an ad is yellow or blue. Just run an experiment. This leaves management free to worry about the stuff that is hard to quantify, which is usually a much better use of their time.

Soul stained black by darkness I’ve been banished to this half life. All I have left is remembered honor And for this I now must fight. I’ll protect those that I left behind So they’ll never feel this sorrow. I’ll hold the line day and night So my Fey brethren will not follow. Dahl’reisen’s Lament, by Varian vel Chera

Sometimes, I feel like I connect more deeply with the characters in novels than with people I meet in real life. Maybe because in novels you get to read their thoughts. In life, you never know what people are thinking. ~Devan

Once you start creating something with the expectation of sharing it with the world, whether a commercial public or even your own friends, it changes how you feel about what you’re doing, it affects the decisions you make. ~ Vaughn

their book Information Rules, Haas School of Business Professor Carl Shapiro and Google Chief Economist Hal Varian claim that “the profits you can earn from a customer  —  on a going forward, present-value basis  —  exactly equal the total switching costs.” This, more than Apple’s design abilities, and even more than its supply chain excellence, may be the real concern for would-be Apple competitors.

Being able to figure out quickly what works and what doesn’t can mean the difference between survival and extinction.” —Hal Varian, Google Chief Economist “If you double the number of experiments you do per year you’re going to double your inventiveness.” —Jeff Bezos, CEO of Amazon

Varian’s casual understatement stands in counterpoint to his often-startling declarations: “Nowadays there is a computer in the middle of virtually every transaction… now that they are available these computers have several other uses.”8 He then identifies four such new uses: “data extraction and analysis,” “new contractual forms due to better monitoring,” “personalization and customization,” and “continuous experiments.

Data extraction and analysis,” Varian writes, “is what everyone is talking about when they talk about big data.

Amren’s eyes flicked up from the Book as Varian halted. A coy smile curved her red lips. There was still blood and dirt splattered on Varian’s brown skin, coating his silver armor and close-cropped white hair. He didn’t seem to notice or care as he strode for Amren. And none of us dared to speak as Varian dropped to his knees before Amren’s chair, took her shocked face in his broad hands, and kissed her soundly.

Amren sat in Varian’s lap on the matching couch opposite her,

Varian dropped to his knees before Amren’s chair, took her shocked face in his broad hands, and kissed her soundly.

Settled near a large group of tribespeople, not too far from the fire, it was obvious, from the sound of red-haired Dimitris, that there was more being passed around than just meat.