Wheaton Quotes

Wil Wheaton Says: Don't be a dick.

Things every person should have: •A nemesis. •An evil twin. •A secret headquarters. •An escape hatch. •A partner in crime. •A secret identity.

Sometimes we know in our bones what we really need to do, but we're afraid to do it. Taking a chance and stepping beyond the safety of the world we've always known is the only way to grow, though and without risk there is no reward.

Be honest. Be kind. Be honorable. Work hard. And always be awesome.

Like most gunters, I voted to reelect Cory Doctorow and Wil Wheaton (again). There were no term limits, and those two geezers had been doing a kick-ass job of protecting user rights for over a decade.

I have found that the key to being happy — well, one of the keys, anyway — is to be easily amused,

You can’t has,' he whispered softly, 'not yours.

The reality of this election is that we can choose between a disappointing Democrat and the end of the world.

Win or lose the battle, you're on the winning side because you know the Lord." ~ Rowen

As an adult, getting paid thousands of dollars a week to say, “Aye, Sir. Course laid in” is a seriously sweet gig, but when I was a teenager, it sucked.

At this point, none of us are sure why we fight. We’re sisters. We need no good reason to fight, even though we have plenty of them.

will never understand why the Internet seems to take away the basic humanity of most people, and allows — no, enables — them to say things that they’d never say to another person face to face.

I answered the call to heal before I answered the call of duty to my country. My job is to help and heal, not to destroy.

I wonder if The Lesson is that, in order to succeed, I need to rely upon myself, trust myself, love myself, and not put my happiness and sadness into the hands of others.

I can't believe you said that about fire ants and thunderstorms! You are such a Houstonist!

One person can do quite a lot." ~ Kevin

I voted to reelect Cory Doctorow and Wil Wheaton (again). There were no term limits, and those two geezers had been doing a kick-ass job of protecting user rights for over a decade.

For what is religion if not a great mystery? It is nothing if not a series of clues, a key to unlocking the greatest secrets of the universe. The careful detective will spend as much time pondering the spiritual mysteries as he does on whatever singular problem has crossed his path on any given day. Guide to the Criminal and Commonplace, M. C. Wheaton

In Louisiana, one of the first stages of grief is eating your weight in Popeyes fried chicken. The second stage is doing the same with boudin. People have been known to swap the order. Or to do both at the same time.

Lore: Making a note here: HUGE SUCCESS!

I need to rely upon myself, trust myself, love myself and not put my happiness and sadness into the hands of others.

Women in Jesus' day were less than second-class citizens.

It is untrue that fiction is nonutilitarian. The uses of fiction are synonymous with the uses of literature. They include refreshment, clarification of life, self-awareness, expansion of our range of experiences, and enlargement of our sense of understanding and discovery, perception, intensification, expression, beauty , and understanding. Like literature generally, fiction is a form of discovery, perception, intensification, expression, beauty, and understanding. If it is all these things, the question of whether it is a legitimate use of time should not even arise.

Forget the dogs; books were man's best friend.

Nurture nature and nature nurtures us all

When I was a kid, I wanted to be as good an actor as Patrick, as cool as Frakes, and as funny as Brent. From time to time, one of them would say something to me that made me feel like I'd taken a step in that direction, and it always meant the world to me. I loved it when Brent would joke around with me, because it made me feel like I was the peer I so desperately wanted to be, instead of the clueless teenager I knew I was.

On that day, the library was transformed from a confusing and intimidating collection of books into a thousand different portals through time and space to fantastic worlds for me to explore.*

Well, I’ve got three things working against me before I even walk into the room: 1. I’m the last speaker of the day. The fans are tired and a little burned out. 2. I’m following Michael Dorn and Marina Sirtis. They do conventions together all the time, have a set routine that never fails, and the fans adore them. 3. I was Wesley Crusher.

There is no reason to feel embarrassed when you reach out to a professional for help, because the person you are reaching out to is someone who has literally dedicated their life to helping people like us live, instead of merely exist.

I am most interested in encouraging Christians to think and read well. Christians, of all people, should reflect the mind of their Maker. Learning to read well is a step toward loving God with your mind. It is a leap toward thinking God’s thoughts after Him.

So as you get older, and as your knowledge grows, don’t ever stop learning. Stay curious.

Picard only saw the movie, which had the entire Tales of the Black Starship subplot removed for time.

Hey, as long as you’re not moving the story forward at all, why not have a pod race?

Pork and chicken grease, the aromatics of choice for the Cajun.

The defining characteristic of [being a nerd] is that we love things.

And it’s not like I never reached out for help. I did! I just didn’t know what questions to ask, and the adults I was close to didn’t know what answers to give.

So don't you ever let a person make you feel bad because you love something they decided is only for nerds. You're loving a thing that's for you>.

I hope that, someday, grocery stores carry only permaculture food because the farmers make more money growing permaculture foods

The only knowledge that is worthwhile, writes Northrop Frye. "is the knowledge that leafs to wisdom, for knowledge without wisdom is a body without life.

If there’s a red dwarf in Canis Major, and it isn’t named Clifford, I’m going to say a swear word.

Like most gunters, I voted to reelect Cory Doctorow and Wil Wheaton (again).

Like most gunters, I voted to reelect Cory Doctorow and Wil Wheaton

ESV® Bible, Kindle Edition The Holy Bible, English Standard Version® (ESV®) Crossway Wheaton, Illinois

Where there’s love there’s victory in every story there’s a purpose Sometimes the answers don’t come clearly But where there’s love there’s victory. My Dear Mae (In Harm’s Way album)

Riker tells Data to just get on with it already, so Data says Ferengi are like Yankee traders from 18th-century America. This indicates that, in the 24th century, the traditional practice of using 600-year-old comparisons is still in vogue, like when you’re stuck in traffic on the freeway, and say, “Man, this is just like Vasco de Gama trying to go around the Cape of Good Hope!

Remember what it was like on Christmas when you woke up before your parents, and had to sit there until they were ready, knowing that just a few rooms away there was something awesome waiting for you? For the next thirty minutes, I felt that way, while I waited for them to call me back up to the set.

What an unfriendly country,” said Noxon. “Different time, different place,” said Wheaton. “We think we’re a very welcoming country. Generous and kind. Unless we don’t like your language or the way you look.

You can curse the moon Curse the day your’re born But the pilot of your plane is you We’re all in this world, by a greater plan Look up, lift your wings, Because you can The Light Said (The First Song album)

My heart believed even when my mind faltered. I listened to my heart and I wrote "A Wrinkle in Time" as an affirmation that there was indeed light in the darkness with which I was surrounded. I wrote it for God.

The difference is a matter of shifts in society . . . and in me. These shifts aren’t meant to be an excuse of any kind. I’m happy for the shifts, as it has brought (at least some of) the world to a more enlightened place. A place just a touch freer of bigotry and hatred, including within myself.

Wil Wheaton once explained—in an interview with NPR—what he thought was the key to Stand by Me’s success: Rob Reiner found four young boys who basically were the characters we played. I was awkward and nerdy and shy and uncomfortable in my own skin and really, really sensitive; River was cool and really smart and passionate and even at that age kind of like a father figure to some of us; Jerry was one of the funniest people I had ever seen in my life, either before or since; and Corey was unbelievably angry and in an incredible amount of pain and had an absolutely terrible relationship with his parents. Wil was right.

there are no angels brighter than dawn

Life is short, but art is long. Sophocles is dead, but Oedipus lives on…Each of us when we read a great piece of literature is a little more human than befor

Nobody gets to tell you what your dream is or is not. Whatever your dream is, you deserve to realize it.

Prideful fool. It hurt his feelings that he couldn’t make my crazy go away. You know how men are. Always trying to fix things can’t be fixed.

Hate is like cancer, separate from the normal cells, devouring and not being nourished, annihilating itself along with everything it attacks.

You’ve got to stop worrying about a choice you made fifteen years ago, because you can’t change it.

Like all the other things I’d agonized over, the process of making the decision took more time and energy—and was more painful and scary—than the result.

That includes the gross parts, which I am learning to accept (without condoning) through the words of the great Bob Ross: “You can’t have light without a little darkness.

One of the best things I’ve ever done was take a close look at my mental health and accept that I wasn’t doing fine.

The stuff they put in household cleaners is incredibly dangerous. It is also mostly unnecessary.

For me, nearly all of our problems are solved with a recipe composed mostly of homesteading and permaculture.

If the goal is to save energy, the power company would save a lot more energy providing you with a clothesline.

You have my permission to be completely free." She wondered if he said that to every woman he brought on board. "I don't need your permission to be free.

Well-wrought poems and works of imaginative literature can do for us what stone-cold prose can never do. They can help us grasp the full dimension of ways of life other than our own.

Whoa," says Michael. "What is it?" I ask. Michael shakes his head in disbelief. He points at the screen. "Wil Wheaton saw an I Kill the Mockingbird flyer and tweeted about it." "Wil Wheaton?" I say. "Wil Wheaton!" Michael says again. "Wil Wheaton!" "Who is Wil Wheaton?" "Wil Wheaton!" "Michael," says Elena, "no matter how many times you say his name we still don't know who you're talking about." "He's a gamer!" Michael takes the mouse from Elena and clicks on Wil Wheaton's profile. "He's a total geek hero! He's an author and an actor. He used to be on STAR TREK." I point to the description that Wil Wheaton has written about himself. "It says here that he's just a guy." "Just a guy who used to be on STAR TREK!" says Michael.

I read about a study, which indicated that highly intelligent people tend to have generalized anxiety and other mental health issues at a rate that is significantly greater than a control group.*

It happens so fast, Laina, you don’t even realize it’s happening. One day, your friends are eating breakfast with you in the canteen, and when it’s time for dinner, they’re wearing an Imperial uniform.

Perhaps courage didn't come in the way you would most expect. It wasn't brave heroics, or pushing yourself to get through hard times. No, courage was surrendering yourself to God and letting Him guide you.

Evelyn continued to hold the wheel, recognizing the sensation of being in control of the rudder, while Martin explained how the direction of the wind was key, and how all the elements worked together to affect speed. "It's physics," she said, becoming fascinated by the complexity of the air and water flow working together, and comprehending how the shape of the hull and sails and the size of the keel all played an important part in the boat's movement.

One of Geordi’s first stops is to visit his good pal Wesley Crusher, who shows off one of his science projects (a mini tractor beam) and one of his toys, a device that lets Wesley recreate speech from anyone on the ship. Any doubt that Wesley is a complete weenie is removed when we learn that he uses this device to have Captain Picard say things like, “Welcome to the bridge, Wesley,” instead of having Counselor Troi say things like, “Smack my ass, Wesley, I’m a naughty, naughty bitch.

When I look back on most of my life, it breaks my heart that when my brain was unloading an endless pile of what ifs on me, it never asked, “What if I go do this thing that I want to do, and it’s . . . fun? What if I enjoy myself, and I’m really glad I went?

Small towns blossomed by elevators and the trains Once every 14 miles along the prairie veins We were born of progress, now progress will decree That we’re no longer viable, and should no long be… Still Standing about Canada’s Prairie Elevators (The First Song album)

if you suspect that you have a mental illness, there is no reason to be ashamed, or embarrassed, and most importantly, you do not need to be afraid. You do not need to suffer. There is nothing noble in suffering, and there is nothing shameful or weak in asking for help.

Meaning in fiction is thus viewed as what an action leads to, results in, or implies. If the experiment in living succeeds, the work can be said to affirm that world view. If the experiment fails, the work denies that view of reality and by implication usually suggests an alternative.

Hence the dazzling mountain scene that takes our breath away should not provoke us to try to seize and freeze the moment, but to give thanks and look ahead to the beauty of the new heaven and the new earth, of which this world's finest beauty is but a miniscule glimpse. We delight in the world's beauty as we lament its transience.

I don’t know what the future of my career holds, but I know that whatever is over the horizon, the road I’ve traveled to get here is like those interstates in Texas: everything can look the same, and it can feel like you’re not going anywhere, until you suddenly get where you’re going and realize that you’ve been traveling for a long time.

I remember a woman, speaking at a ceremony when Anne was given an award for National Women’s Health Week. She said, “women need to work in medical research, and in applied medicine, because too many men treat women’s bodies like they are just men’s bodies with female parts, but our bodies are fundamentally different and need to be treated that way.

I live with depression and anxiety.* I take medication, I practice meditation and CBT, and I see a therapist regularly to help me handle it. It doesn’t control my life, and it doesn’t define my life . . . but when it’s really bad, it sure feels like it does. When it’s really bad, it feels like it is the only thing in my entire life, the Alpha and Omega of my existence.

The Enterprise is on a diplomatic mission to meet the Jarada, an alien species with a peculiar affinity for protocol: if Picard doesn’t speak a particular greeting in exactly the right way at exactly the right time, the Jarada won’t join the Federation, and they’ll take all their mythical Jaradan weed with them. You can imagine, the success of this mission is especially important to everyone on Starbase 420.

It’s painful to recall, but I’m not ashamed, because all those thoughts—which I thankfully don’t have anymore, thanks to medical science and therapy—were not my fault any more than the allergies that clog my sinuses when the trees in my neighborhood start doin’ it every spring are my fault. It’s just part of who I am. It’s part of how my brain is wired, and because I know that, I can medically treat it, instead of being a victim of it.

And it makes you feel really, really alone. Like, you are the only person who has ever felt this way, and the only person who ever will feel this way, and if you just tried a little harder, you wouldn’t feel this way. But you do feel this way, because you’re alone. Yep, you’re alone and nobody can help you. In fact, it wouldn’t be surprised if you’re the only one with this infernal internal monologue. Look around you—nobody else seems to have this problem. It’s just you. But that’s not true.

Unlike the hard, iron skeleton of war, the Izzy Doll is soft and cuddly. Not forced upon, it is given freely and accepted easily. It cannot be bought or sold therefore has no monetary power. It is created in the spirit of love and given in the same. A gesture of kindness, it brings hope to those who have lost hope. It is created by and distributed by volunteers, all who are in the mood for peace. In a world full of woes and wrongs, it is cheerful and right. And it is a gift of peace. from In the Mood for Peace: the Story of the Izzy Doll

Dear Mr. Jacob Witting,’” read Grandfather haltingly, slowly. “‘I am Sarah Wheaton from Maine…’” He looked at me. “That was her first letter to Jacob?” he asked. I nodded. “The answer to Papa’s advertisement for a wife and mother,” I said. “And then she wrote to us. See, there.” I pointed, and Grandfather began to read. “‘My favorite colors are the colors of the sea, blue and gray and green, depending on the weather.’” Grandfather sat back. “She came a long way.” “We were excited,” I said. “Sarah wrote that she was coming. And then she added something for Anna and me that made us even more excited.” “What?” asked Grandfather. “What did she write?” I turned the pages of the journal. “There,” I said. I couldn’t help smiling. “‘Tell them I sing,’” read Grandfather. He couldn’t help smiling either. “We were afraid she wouldn’t stay,” I said. “She loved Maine.” Grandfather nodded. He closed the book that Anna had written so long ago. I could tell our lesson was over for today. Grandfather walked to the window and looked out over the farm. “You always love what you know first,” he said. “Always,” he repeated softly.

Martin was more than happy to let Spencer take over the conversation, for it finally granted him an opportunity to observe Mrs. Wheaton- who had just achieved the impossible. She had made him laugh. Truly, she was one of a kind. She always had been, he supposed, recalling again that day at the train station. While the polite conversation continued all around him, he allowed his gaze to meander downward and was pleased to admire the alluring feminine curves "Miss Foster" had developed over the past decade, including a lush, generous bosom, which would fare quite nicely in a lighter gown with a lower neckline, he thought. Dressed as she was at present, she reminded him of a pleasure yacht with her sails trimmed too tight, rendering her incapable of moving freely at the speed she was built for. He wondered suddenly how this aloof young widow would respond to a little wind in her sails and a skillful skipper like himself at her helm. Would he be able to bring the best out of her, like he did with the Orpheus? Yes, he thought with absolute confidence while he admired the grace of her gloved hand as she touched one finger to the corner of her mouth to dab at an errant drop of tea. He certainly could bring the best out of her, and also bring out that spark she kept hidden from the world. A marvelous, masculine satisfaction flowed through him at the thought of it.

I DO NOT BELIEVE that such groups as these which I found my way to not long after returning from Wheaton, or Alcoholics Anonymous, which is the group they all grew out of, are perfect any more than anything human is perfect, but I believe that the Church has an enormous amount to learn from them. I also believe that what goes on in them is far closer to what Christ meant his Church to be, and what it originally was, than much of what goes on in most churches I know. These groups have no buildings or official leadership or money. They have no rummage sales, no altar guilds, no every-member canvases. They have no preachers, no choirs, no liturgy, no real estate. They have no creeds. They have no program. They make you wonder if the best thing that could happen to many a church might not be to have its building burn down and to lose all its money. Then all that the people would have left would be God and each other. The church often bears an uncomfortable resemblance to the dysfunctional family. There is the authoritarian presence of the minister—the professional who knows all of the answers and calls most of the shots—whom few ever challenge either because they don’t dare to or because they feel it would do no good if they did. There is the outward camaraderie and inward loneliness of the congregation. There are the unspoken rules and hidden agendas, the doubts and disagreements that for propriety’s sake are kept more or less under cover. There are people with all sorts of enthusiasms and creativities which are not often enough made use of or even recognized because the tendency is not to rock the boat but to keep on doing things the way they have always been done.

From the Author Matthew 16:25 says, “For whoever desires to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.”  This is a perfect picture of the life of Nate Saint; he gave up his life so God could reveal a greater glory in him and through him. I first heard the story of Operation Auca when I was eight years old, and ever since then I have been inspired by Nate’s commitment to the cause of Christ. He was determined to carry out God’s will for his life in spite of fears, failures, and physical challenges. For several years of my life, I lived and ministered with my parents who were missionaries on the island of Jamaica. My experiences during those years gave me a passion for sharing the stories of those who make great sacrifices to carry the gospel around the world. As I wrote this book, learning more about Nate Saint’s life—seeing his spirit and his struggles—was both enlightening and encouraging to me. It is my prayer that this book will provide a window into Nate Saint’s vision—his desires, dreams, and dedication. I pray his example will convince young people to step out of their comfort zones and wholeheartedly seek God’s will for their lives. That is Nate Saint’s legacy: changing the world for Christ, one person and one day at a time.   Nate Saint Timeline 1923 Nate Saint born. 1924 Stalin rises to power in Russia. 1930 Nate’s first flight, aged 7 with his brother, Sam. 1933 Nate’s second flight with his brother, Sam. 1936 Nate made his public profession of faith. 1937 Nate develops bone infection. 1939 World War II begins. 1940 Winston Churchill becomes British Prime Minister. 1941 Nate graduates from Wheaton College. Nate takes first flying lesson. Japan attacks Pearl Harbor, Hawaii. 1942 Nate’s induction into the Army Air Corps. 1943 Nate learns he is to be transferred to Indiana. 1945 Atomic bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, Japan by U.S. 1946 Nate discharged from the Army. 1947 Nate accepted for Wheaton College. 1948 Nate and Marj are married and begin work in Eduador. Nate crashes his plane in Quito. 1949 Nate’s first child, Kathy, is born. Germany divided into East and West. 1950 Korean War begins. 1951 Nate’s second child, Stephen, is born. 1952 The Saint family return home to the U.S. 1953 Nate comes down with pneumonia. Nate and Henry fly to Ecuador. 1954 The first nuclear-powered submarine is launched. Nate’s third child, Phillip, is born. 1955 Nate is joined by Jim Elliot, Ed McCully, Peter Fleming and Roger Youderian. Nate spots an Auca village for the first time. Operation Auca commences. 1956 The group sets up camp four miles from the Auca territory. Nate and the group are killed on “Palm Beach”.

I'll say this much for guys, gay or straight: it's easy to pick up a friendship and act like nothing's happened. I can only imagine how quickly Christianity would have collapsed had Jesus and the Apostles been a bunch of women. Jesus would never have gotten over the fact that they abandoned him during the Crucifixion. 'I can't believe you guys would do that to me. I'm never speaking to you again. Ever!' Then, out of spite, he would have run off and joined up with the Zoroastrians.

One thing the Bible does not do: it does not denigrate the mind. The Bible is not anti-intellectual. Rather it gives the reason why all of us know what we know, why we can think with some degree of accuracy, and why we fail to think with complete accuracy.

Next Generation was immensely popular at the time, and I was still riding high on the success of Stand by Me. They couldn’t understand why I was so intimidated by these actors – my face was splashed across the cover of every teen magazine in print. Why was I so intimidated? I was a 16 year-old geek, with a chance to meet The Big Three from Star Trek. You do the math.

Evelyn." She recognized the voice immediately, and her body began to hum. Closing her eyes for a brief second to search for calm, she wet her lips and slowly turned. There he was, her hero, looking as handsome as ever in his black-and-white formal attire, his dark, wavy hair curling around his collar in the most appealing way. He was a striking and beautiful man, that had not changed, and she still loved him with every breath of passion in her body. "Hello," she said with a warm smile. "Hello," he replied, making his way closer, hands in pockets while his eyes took in her evening gown of white satin, embroidered in peach lovers' knots, cut daringly low at the neckline. He even glanced down at her shoes of gilt leather with expensive jeweled toecaps. "You look beautiful," he said, and she smiled when she recognized the wonder in his eyes. She had definitely picked the right gown for tonight. He gazed at her appreciatively for another few seconds, then raised his eyebrows and let out a whistle, as if he couldn't quite recover from the sight of her in this dress. It was just the response she had hoped for, and it sent shivers of delight down her spine.

To feel apprehensive about certain things is normal, but in doing them, in conquering our fears- that is where the true rewards are. That is when we accomplish great things." He gazed down at her lovely profile and wondered how it was possible that a woman could make him feel so content and inspired, yet so enormously randy at the same time. "I agree," he said, struggling to focus on the subject at hand. "Life has to be faced head-on with courage and fortitude.

40 minutes in a city is nothing. But 40 minutes along a rural highway seems like an eternity. So we’re driving along, and I ask my friend if we’re there yet, and he says no, so I say, “Jesus. By the time we get there, the kid won’t even be dead anymore.” There is this pause in the car, and one of the other actors says, “Dude. Did you just quote your own movie?” I answered in the affirmative, and he says, “That was very cool.

I guess that the thing people say to me all the time is, “Were the leeches real?” They then turn to their frat guy friends and snicker, like they’re the first person to ever say that to me. I wait for a second, so they think they’ve really cut me down, and I say, “Yeah. Ask your mom about my scar.” Finding new and preferably disgusting ways to degrade a friend’s mother is always held in high regard.

John Piper:“The greatest enemy of hunger for God is not poison but apple pie. It is not the banquet of the wicked that dulls our appetite for heaven, but endless nibbling at the table of the world. It is not the X-rated video, but the prime-time dribble of triviality we drink in every night. For all the ill that Satan can do, when God describes what keeps us from the banquet table of his love, it is a piece of land, a yoke of oxen, and a wife (Luke 14:18-20). The greatest adversary of love to God is not his enemies but his gifts. And the most deadly appetites are not for the poison of evil, but for the simple pleasures of earth. For when these replace an appetite for God himself, the idolatry is scarcely recognizable, and almost incurable” (A Hunger for God [Wheaton:Crossway, 1997], 14). “Open wide your mouth and I will fill it.

She remembered what he'd said in the hotel, that life was just a series of moments, and though she still did not agree with the idea that consequences played no part, she gave in to the possibility that there might be some wisdom in what he was trying to show her- that one had to enjoy life day by day and seize opportunities when they presented themselves, because one never knew when it could all end.

Lord Martin." The voice came to him from behind. He felt a great jolt in his senses. He turned and saw her- Evelyn- looking ravishing in a dark red silk gown and matching mantle. Her hair was swept up into a braided knot on top of her head, and she wore a fashionable black hat tilted forward at a daring angle. He knew then that he really had made a difference in her life, for she was not the aloof young woman she had been in his younger days, nor was she the cool, dignified widow she used to be. She was proud and confident and dazzling in her beauty. He suddenly wished he could sit down, because she was so lovely, he feared his legs might give out beneath him.

And even though she didn't always know what she was doing, she was still the fearless captain of his heart, for she had taught him about life and what it is to sail through it. Everything was going to be fine, he realized, for there would be joy again.

Martin eyed the buffet table because he'd slept through dinner and was ravenous; but as luck would have it, who was standing next to the tower of cream cakes but Evelyn- looking equally delicious in a stunning, pale yellow gown of light diaphanous fabric that seemed to flutter around her legs on a nonexistent breeze. And her bosom... Well, she looked delectable with pearls crisscrossing over her lush, alluring breasts.

So is that what you love about sailing?" she asked. "It keeps your mind busy and occupied?" He still seemed distracted as he tipped his head up to inspect the mainsail. "I guess that's part of it. I like to get everything working just so in order to get the most out of the boat, and I can't rest until she's moving as fast as she can." Evelyn turned the wheel slightly. "And you tell me I'm the one who needs to relax?" His gaze darted to her profile, then he laughed and shook his head. "I did say we were similar creatures, didn't I? We have that in common, I suppose- we both need some slack in our lines." "Speak for yourself!" she replied, feigning great umbrage. "I like my lines pulled very tight, sir, because with my inconceivable beauty, I have to do something to keep the wicked rakes like you at a safe distance." He stared at her, dumbfounded, then they both gave in to their laughter. She wondered how it was possible they could be having this conversation. Who knew she could be amusing? "You're quite a woman, Evelyn." Then he wagged a warning finger at her. "It's a good thing I didn't know you better back at Eton, or you would have been in considerable trouble.