Voted Off The Island Quotes

You, psycho-ass, and Talon, I’ll cover, but not him. (Nick) Psycho-ass? Hmm, I like that. (Zarek) Nick– (Acheron) It’s all right, Greek. I would rather die than have his plebeian help anyway. (Valerius) Make that three votes, then. I would rather he died, too. Now all together, let’s vote this asshole off the island. (Zarek)

So what'd we miss?" Jade pulled a chair from the next table and wedged it between Kale and Dax. "We were just about to vote you off the island," I said, stirring my coffee. "You've got my vote," Kiernan said enthusiastically, glaring at Jade.

Right,” he laughs. “Well…these are the guys, right? What are you calling them—your boyfriends? Your squad? Your pussy posse?” Jake snorts, his mouth open like he’s about to speak. “Don’t,” I snap. “The first of you to refer to our relationship as the ‘pussy posse’ will be the first voted off the island. Agreed?

Do you have someone in mind, Galen?" Toraf asks, popping a shrimp into his mouth. "Is it someone I know?" "Shut up, Toraf," Galen growls. He closes his eyes, massages his temples. This could have gone a lot better in so many ways. "Oh," Toraf says. "It must be someone I know, then." "Toraf, I swear by Triton's trident-" "These are the best shrimp you've ever made, Rachel," Toraf continues. "I can't wait to cook shrimp on our island. I'll get the seasoning for us, Rayna." "She's not going to any island with you, Toraf!" Emma yells. "Oh, but she is, Emma. Rayna wants to be my mate. Don't you, princess?" he smiles. Rayna shakes her head. "It's no use, Emma. I really don't have a choice." She resigns herself to the seat next to Emma, who peers down at her, incredulous. "You do have a choice. You can come live with me at my house. I'll make sure he can't get near you." Toraf's expression indicates he didn't consider that possibility before goading Emma. Galen laughs. "It's not so funny anymore is it, tadpole?" he says, nudging him. Toraf shakes his head. "She's not staying with you, Emma." "We'll see about that, tadpole," she returns. "Galen, do something," Toraf says, not taking his eyes off Emma. Galen grins. "Such as?" "I don't know, arrest her or something," Toraf says, crossing his arms. Emma locks eyes with Galen, stealing his breath. "Yeah, Galen. Come arrest me if you're feeling up to it. But I'm telling you right now, the second you lay a hand on me, I'm busting this glass over your head and using it to split your lip like Toraf's." She picks up her heavy drinking glass and splashes the last drops of orange juice onto the table. Everyone gasps except Galen-who laughs so hard he almost upturns his chair. Emma's nostrils flare. "You don't think I'll do it? There's only one way to find out, isn't there, Highness?" The whole airy house echoes Galen's deep-throated howls. Wiping the tears from his eyes, he elbows Toraf, who's looking at him like he drank too much saltwater. "Do you know those foolish humans at her school voted her the sweetest out of all of them?" Toraf's expression softens as he looks up at Emma, chuckling. Galen's guffaws prove contagious-Toraf is soon pounding the table to catch his breath. Even Rachel snickers from behind her oven mitt. The bluster leaves Emma's expression. Galen can tell she's in danger of smiling. She places the glass on the table as if it's still full and she doesn't want to spill it. "Well, that was a couple of years ago." This time Galen's chair does turn back, and he sprawls onto the floor. When Rayna starts giggling, Emma gives in, too. "I guess...I guess I do have sort of a temper," she says, smiling sheepishly. She walks around the table to stand over Galen. Peering down, she offers her hand. He grins up at her. "Show me your other hand." She laughs and shows him it's empty. "No weapons." "Pretty resourceful," he says, accepting her hand. "I'll never look at a drinking glass the same way." He does most of the work of pulling himself up but can't resist the opportunity to touch her. She shrugs. "Survival instinct, maybe?" He nods. "Or you're trying to cut my lips off so you won't have to kiss me." He's pleased when she looks away, pink restaining her cheeks. "Rayna tries that all the time," Toraf chimes in. "Sometimes when her aim is good, it works, but most of the time kissing her is my reward for the pain.

They are demanding equal rights with us,’ says Mrs. Fiedke. ‘That’s why I never vote with the Liberals. Perfume, jewellery, hair down to their shoulders, and I’m not talking about the ones who were born like that. I mean, the ones that can’t help it should be put on an island. It’s the others I’m talking about. There was a time they would stand up and open the door for you. They would take their hat off. But they want their equality today. All I say is that if God had intended them to be as good as us he wouldn’t have made them different from us to the naked eye. They don’t want to be all dressed alike any more. Which is only a move against us. You couldn’t run an army like that, let alone the male sex. With all due respects to Mr. Fiedke, may he rest in peace, the male sex is getting out of hand. Of course, Mr. Fiedke knew his place as a man, give him his due.’ ….. ‘If we don’t look lively,’ she says, ‘they will be taking over the homes and the children, and sitting about having chats while we go and fight to defend them and work to keep them. They won’t be content with equal rights only. Next thing they’ll want the upper hand, mark my words. Diamond earrings, I’ve read in the paper.

Discipline is what you must have to resist the lure of excuses. It is self-discipline that enables you to “vote yourself off the island.” It is the key to a great life and, without it, no lasting success is possible.

Opinion polls showed that two-thirds of Greeks rejected the conditions attached to the bailout, but wanted to stay in the eurozone. Demonstrations spread throughout Greece advocating a “No” vote. So the Germans and French tried to frame the issue in a narrow way designed to get a “Yes” answer: Did voters want to be part of Europe? The aim was to avoid asking the really important question: Did Greek voters want to impose a decade of depression on themselves, cut public services, impose anti-union labor “reforms,” and sell off the Athenian water supply, its port, their beautiful islands and their gas rights in the Aegean to Germans and other creditors?

Every night, millions of Americans spend their free hours watching television rather than engaging in any form of social interaction. What are they watching? In recent years we have seen reality television become the most popular form of television programming. To discover the nature of our current “reality,” we might consider examples such as Survivor, the series that helped spawn the reality TV revolution. Every week tens of millions of viewers watched as a group of ordinary people stranded in some isolated place struggled to meet various challenges and endure harsh conditions. Ah, one might think, here we will see people working cooperatively, like our ancient ancestors, working cooperatively in order to “win”! But the “reality” was very different. The conditions of the game were arranged so that, yes, they had to work cooperatively, but the alliances by nature were only temporary and conditional, as the contestants plotted and schemed against one another to win the game and walk off with the Grand Prize: a million dollars! The objective was to banish contestants one by one from the deserted island through a group vote, eliminating every other contestant until only a lone individual remained—the “sole survivor.” The end game was the ultimate American fantasy in our Age of Individualism: to be left completely alone, sitting on a mountain of cash! 　　While Survivor was an overt example of our individualistic orientation, it certainly was not unique in its glorification of rugged individualists on American television. Even commercial breaks provide equally compelling examples, with advertisers such as Burger King, proclaiming, HAVE IT YOUR WAY! The message? America, the land where not only every man and every woman is an individual but also where every hamburger is an individual! 　　Human beings do not live in a vacuum; we live in a society. Thus it is important to look at the values promoted and celebrated in a given society and measure what effect this conditioning has on our sense of independence or of interdependence

Let's say I was tasked with determining whether your software project will fail. With the responses to these three questions in hand, I can tell you with almost utter certainty whether your project will fail: How many lines of code will your team write? What kind of software are you building? Do you like your coworkers? That last question isn't a joke. I'm not kidding. Do you like the company of your teammates on a personal level? Do you respect your teammates professionally? If you were starting at another company, would you invite your coworkers along? Do you have spirited team discussions or knock-down, drag-out, last man standing filibuster team arguments? Are there any people on your team you'd "vote off the island" if you could?

I was just about to suggest to Barry that we stop for a moment and go rescue Marguerite when I realized it was too late.      Marguerite was carrying a small evening bag, like a clutch purse, and I saw her wind up and throw it down onto the floor.  At the same time I heard her almost scream, “ALL RIGHT YOU SONOFABITCH, I DON’T WANT TO HEAR ANOTHER WORD!!”  It was loud enough that everyone heard her and even the band stopped to see what was going on.      With the index finger of her right hand she began poking this guy in the center of his chest and backing him up at the same time, all the while shouting at the top of her lungs, “If it wasn’t for the UNITED STATES OF AMERICA and the men who fought and died to help keep your country free, YOU would be living on the tiniest GERMAN SPEAKING ISLAND OF THE THIRD REICH!!!  DON’T EVER LET ME HEAR YOU SAY ANYTHING BAD ABOUT MY COUNTRY AGAIN, IN FACT DON’T EVER SAY ANYTHING TO ME AGAIN, NOD IF YOU UNDERSTAND !!!”       She had pushed him back against the bar and he was now leaning over backwards about as far as he could lean and she was still poking him in the chest.  The room was completely silent.  I said to Barry, “Excuse me a moment Barry, I think I need to go rescue one of your countrymen.”      She chuckled and said, “I doubt if anyone will care if you rescue that one.”      I went straight for Marguerite and the terrified LtCdr bent backwards over the bar.  As I approached them I scooped up her purse from the floor and said, “I believe this next dance is mine my dear.” I gave her my arm and we headed for the center of the dance floor and as we did the band started back up.  Everyone else picked right back up where they’d left off.     About twenty minutes later the Commander came up to us.  I had no idea what to expect but he had big smile on his face.      “William, I just wanted to thank you and your good lady for that lovely cocktail party at your quarters this evening and tell you how smart you both look in your ball outfits.  AND Marguerite, I think if we took a vote right now, most everyone in the room would want to award you a medal for setting that ‘Bloody’ man straight.  Well done.

your duty is to all of us. Valerius is a Dark-Hunter same as me, Talon, and Zarek.” “I know I swore my oath, but I swore it to protect Kyrian of Thrace and hell will freeze colder than Santa’s iceberg before I ever lift even an eyebrow to help the man who tortured and crucified him.” Valerius’s eyes blazed. “That was his grandfather, not him.” Nick pointed a finger at Valerius. “He was there, too, watching it happen, and he did nothing to stop it. I refuse to render aid to someone who could do that.” He looked back at Ash. “You, psycho-ass, and Talon, I’ll cover, but not him.” “Psycho-ass?” Zarek repeated. “Hmm, I like that.” Acheron ignored Zarek. “Nick—” “It’s all right, Greek,” Valerius interrupted. “I would rather die than have his plebeian help anyway.” “Make that three votes, then,” Zarek said. “I would rather he died too. Now all together, let’s vote this asshole off the island.

Well…these are the guys, right? What are you calling them—your boyfriends? Your squad? Your pussy posse?” Jake snorts, his mouth open like he’s about to speak. “Don’t,” I snap. “The first of you to refer to our relationship as the ‘pussy posse’ will be the first voted off the island. Agreed?