Yah Quotes

You are avake, yah?" said a voice in a horribly recognizable accent. "Yah," I muttered, rubbing my head. "And you are still a jerk, yah?

Yah, seperti yang kita semua tahu, satu-satunya hal yang bisa menyembuhkan patah hati adalah waktu—atau orang baru.

Athena." "Kenji yah, mi an hae (sorry)." "Algettso (I understand). Bogoshipda (I miss you)." "Na do (me too)." "Yun lang alam ko, hehe. Hindi na ako makapag construct ng sentence sa Korean. Gawa mo?" "Wala naka higa lang. Ikaw?" "Eto.. iniisip ka. Lumilipad yung kukote ko papunta sayo.

Whispers followed me down the hall. Ignoring them was harder than I´d imagined. Every Cell in my body demanded that I confront them. And do what? Jump on them like a crazy spider monkey and take them all out? Yah, not going to win me any fans.

Yah, lo jalan dulauan aja. Gue di belakang - Surya Nggak apa-apa? gue jalannya lambat - Cessa Nggak apa-apa. selambat apapun lo jalan, gue ikutin – Surya

It's the people y'gotta watch out for. You never know who y'might meet, or what Ol' Man Fate has in store for yah.

I totally kicked Ashman ass over there! I was all like hi-yah and you wanna piece of me? I was a super slayer! Buffy’s got nothing on me.” … “It was life and death out there, guys. Life and death. They just kept coming at me and I just kept putting them down … I mean, sure, I screamed like a girl a few times and accidentally stabbed myself at the beginning, but still.

Not inmune to engines huh? BOO-Yah!! -Leo

No novelists any good except me. Sovietski -- yah! Nastikoff -- bah! I spit me of zem all. No novelists anywhere any good except me. P. G. Wodehouse and Tolstoi not bad. Not good, but not bad. No novelists any good except me.

I ain't here for your monie, thot. I need you to come with me now. I have to make anothter stop involving a rich thot, and you gonna accompany me to get her. The man asked me to get yah first.

Gentlemen-rankers out on the spree Damned from here to Eternity, God ha' mercy on such as we, Baa! Yah! Bah!

Yah-weh. Not my way.

Yah, begitulah orang zaman sekarang. Kalau tidak percaya pada hal yang sama dengan mereka, kau setan. Tidak boleh berpikir sama sekali, sepertinya. Saya rasa, mereka rasa, berpikir itu kerjaannya setan! Padahal kita kan disuruh sering-sering berpikir, benar tidak?

lay loooo-yah! A-layyyy-loo yah!” He had abandoned his tenor and was singing in a wavering falsetto.

What’s the one thing you want more than any other, prince?”“My wife.”Dionysus rolled his eyes. “Okay, what’s the second thing you want?”“My son.”This time the god expelled a long exasperated breath. “Third? And if you name another family member, I will leave you here with Apollo, so help me, Zeus.”Sadly, Styxx had no other family to name and only one other thing he craved. “To die.”“Ah, you can be taught. Yah! And yeah, death. You kill Acheron and you die. I get to rule the world of man and everyone’s happy.” Hands on hips, Dionysus arched a brow. “So what do you say?”“I say get me the fuck out of here.

The point isn't knowing what will happen, it's being aware that everything we do affects the whole. All of us - mages, vampires, humans, and the rest - affect the balance of life." "If you start singing 'Kum Ba Yah' I'm out of here.

My blood!" ejaculated the vexed coachman, "and not atop of Shooter's yet! Tst! Yah! Get on with you!" The emphatic horse, cut short by the whip

Truth be known, I found it right flatterin'. And, it gives me the confidence tah ask ya out for Saturday." My head snapped up and my cheeks burned. "Wha...?!" Picture of eloquence. That's me. "Saturday. A date. You, me, dinner? Yah've heard of this concept, yeah?

Fret not thyself because of evildoers, neither be thou envious against the workers of iniquity. Plagiarized from King David of Ysrael written sometime between 1040-970 BC Yah

Ten minutes, good, past eleven." "My blood!" ejaculated the vexed coachman, "and not atop of Shooter's yet! Tst! Yah! Get on with you!" The emphatic horse, cut short by the whip in a most decided negative, made a decided scramble for it, and the three other horses followed

YAH (2022)? Ik weet één ding, dat ik niets weet

YAH (2022)? Εν οίδα ότι ουδέν οίδα

Rachel anaknya jangkung, cantik, rambutnya pirang, dan tak kenal takut. Yah, jauh di dalam lubuk hati sih ia juga merasa tidak aman, cemas kalau-kalau ia tak bisa beradaptasi, dan tertekan karena harus hidup memenuhi standar tinggi yang ditentukannya sendiri. Tapi semua itu tersembunyi jauh di dalam. Jauh sekali, sehingga jika kau berusaha mencapainya, ia akan mencincangmu sebelum kau bahkan bisa mendekat.

Jika ada yang ingin kuberikan untukmu, itu hanyalah sekotak Crayon. . . Untuk mewarnai langitmu yang kelabu. Dipagi hari. . .kamu bisa mewarnainya dengan merah muda yah langit dengan matahari terbit memang indah. Disiang hari buatlah banyak cahaya matahari dengan kuning keemasan dan campurkan juga biru yang menenangkan. Namun jika kau ingin cuaca sejuk segar, kau boleh gunakan warna perak dan putih untuk cahaya kilat dan hujan yang lebat. Ada apa dibalik hujan? kutemukan jawaban. . .mari gunakan semua warna yang kau punya, ciptakan Pelangi. Pita indah warna-warni. Biarkan harimu berseri. Dan senja datang. . . ayo gunakan sang Jingga yang jelita, ucapkan selamat tinggal pada bola cahaya raksasa. Hari menggelap?belum! mari kita torehkan Ungu dengan titik-titik cahaya . . .selanjutnya kau boleh menghitamkannya, biarkan gelap menemani mimpimu tapi jangan lupa simpan sebuah bintang díbawah bantal, bersama dengan kotak warnamu . . . Esok warnai lagi langitmu dengan warna apapun yang kau mau. . . Berjanjilah jangan biarkan langitmu kelabu!

Εν οίδα ότι ουδέν οίδα

How many men had made her? Her brothers, by dying? Yah Tayyib, by rebuilding her? All those dead boys whose heads she brought back to the clerks? Raine, by teaching her how to drive and how to die? Tej and Rhys and Khos and all Raine's half-breed muscle? They were just men. They were just people. They had made her as surely as Queen Ayyad and Queen Zaynab, Bashir, Jaks, Radeyah, and her sisters had. Her hoards of sistesr, Kine and the bel dames and the women who kicked her out of school for getting her letters fucked. No, she could have gone either way; followed all or none of them. It wasn't what was done to you. Life was what you did with what was done to you. "You didn't make me," Nyx gasped. "I made myself.

This casual exchange destroys the superstition that God’s holy name should never be spoken aloud or written. The facts are, faithful servants have used God’s holy name—in common parlance—from ancient times to the present. (Joh 17:26) For example: long before Moses was born, his mother had a given name that contained God’s holy name: Jochebed = “Yah-is-glory” (#H3115). Michael Ben Zehabe, Ruth: a woman’s guide to husband material, pg 46

Quinns always come at half price, about half the time, and half-naked, even during the colder half of winter. A Quinn is like a queen, but draggier, and cheaper to buy and use for personal gain, unless you’re suspicious that you’re poor and illiterate like Jarod Kintz, in which case Quinns could be the spirits of your dead relatives, come to haunt you until you gather a massive fortune through selling books on the internet, to send some back in time through a portal you bought from the NSA, so they would have lived better lives without having to move a finger for their fortune. Oh, yah, and since they aren’t - they’re blue, like smurfs, yet they turn purple whenever tickled on the belly, which is something they seem to rather dislike, since they start biting and scratching when it happens, for no good reason, I might add.

Yah, hidup. Kadang baik, kadang buruk. Tenang saja.

far noh mattah wat dey say, come wat may, we are here to stay inna Inglan, inna disya time yah...

Boo-yah

Good luck to you," he said, and she remembered how he had looked at her as she pinned Yah Tayyib, as if she was some kind of monster. Maybe she was.

Benarkah Ibu menyayangiku, Yah? Apa yang sebenarnya lebih dia sayangi, aku atau gambaran dirinya dalam diriku?

Target adalah cerminan antara realitas dan harapan, tidak terlalu "wah" juga tidak terlalu "yah".

the undeniable feeling that, as you castigate a troll, he’s rubbing his Red Dwarf mouse pad against his crotch and sighing, “Angry liberal women typing at me. Oh yah. That’s how I like it.

More seriously-and this is probably why there has been a lot of garbage talked about a lost generation-it was easy to see, all over the landscape of contemporary fiction, the devastating effect of the Thatcher years. So many of these writers wrote without hope. They had lost all ambition, all desire to to wrestle with the world. Their books dealt with tiny patches of the world, tiny pieces of human experience-a council estate, a mother, a father, a lost job. Very few writers had the courage or even the energy to bite off a big chunk of the universe and chew it over. Very few showed any linguistic or formal innovation. Many were dulled and therefore dull. (And then, even worse, there were the Hooray Henries and Sloanes who evidently thought that the day of the yuppie novel, and the Bellini-drinking, okay-yah fiction had dawned. Dukedoms and country-house bulimics abounded. It was plain that too may books were being published; that too many writers had found their way into print without any justification for it at all; that too many publishers had adopted a kind of random, scattergun policy of publishing for turnover and just hoping that something would strike a cord. When the general picture is so disheartening, it is easy to miss the good stuff. I agreed to be a judge for "Best of Young British Novelists II" because I wanted to find out for myself if the good stuff really was there. In my view, it is...One of my old schoolmasters was fond of devising English versions of the epigrams of Martial. I remember only one, his version of Martial's message to a particularly backward-looking critic: "You only praise the good old days We young 'uns get no mention. I don't see why I have to die To gain your kind attention.

Yah, begitulah wanita," ucap Dan. Aku dapat merasakan datangnya salah satu pidato Dan tentang dunia. "Mereka percaya di dalam tiap bajingan tak berperasaan ada anak kecil yang butuh dicintai. tapi teori mereka gagal..." ia melotot lagi ke arah Greg... "karena yang tidak mereka mengerti adalah ada tipe-tipe bajingan tak berperasaan tertentu yang kalau dibelah dua akan muncul banyak bajingan tak berperasaan dari dalamnya.

I dare you to ask him,” Frank said. The other boys were listening. Almanzo put his hands in his pockets and said: “I’d just as lief ask him if I wanted to.” “Yah, you’re scared!” Frank jeered. “Double dare! Double dare!

Ha! Listen, this guy walks into a bar, with a shopping bag, right? He sits down, puts the bag on the bar. Something in the bag is moving, and the bartender says ‘Hey, buddy, no animals in here’. You with me, Jones?” “Yah.” “The guy is looking real unhappy, totally down in the dumps, he reaches in the bag. He pulls out a brass lantern, then a small piano, a little stool, and finally a little guy in a tuxedo, about a foot tall. The little guy sits on the stool and starts playing the piano. Playing the piano, right?” “Yah. Got, it.” “Bartender says,” Williams’ grasp on a handhold slipped for a heart-stopping moment before the suit gloves restored their sticky grip. He could see the problem was some sort of fluid leaking from the access hatch above had coated the handhold. He moved his hand to the left to avoid the slippery fluid, and continued climbing down. “Bartender says, ‘That’s amazing, where’d you get him?’ Guy points to the lamp. ‘Magic genie granted me a wish, But he don’t hear so well-’ Before the guy can stop him, the bartender grabs the lamp, rubs it and shouts ‘I want a million bucks!’. POOF! The bar is filled with ducks! Ducks everywhere, under the tables, in the street outside, feathers flying all over the place. The bartender says ‘What the hell?’ So the guy says ‘I told you the genie don’t hear so well. You really think I asked for a twelve inch pianist?

Education is Education.The "3 steps" to succed is "belive in God,belive in your self and work hard...........We know that Education is the brain of life.If we Graduate we don't care about Love......but we care about work........stay pretty and genius............love yah...........

He tears down my handiwork, boxes my ears, and croaks: ' ''T' maister nobbut just buried, and Sabbath nut oe'red, und t' sahnd uh't gospel still i' yer lugs, and yah darr be laiking! shame on ye! sit ye dahn, ill childer! they's good books enough if ye'll read 'em; sit ye dahn, and think uh yer sowls!

Tapi menurut saya, kalau Tuhan mau membuat sesuatu dengan tidak sempurna, Dia bisa saja. Dia kan bisa melakukan segala hal; mungkin saja membuat sesuatu dengan begitu sempurna, mungkin saja membuat sesuatu dengan tidak sempurna. Masalahnya kan manusia saja yang melihatnya dengan cara yang berbeda, membangun opini mereka sendiri tentang apa yang sempurna dan tidaksempurna. Mereka anggap sesuatu ini, anggap sesuatu itu; padahal sebenarnya penilaian mereka itu tidak ada artinya. Sempurna itu hanya konsep buatan, diciptakan karena mereka—kita—suka menilai dan menghakimi satu sama lain. Yah, begitulah manusia!

Ya?" Aku bersandar penuh harap di susuran tangga. "Alasanku melarangmu melakukan penyelidikan ini sendirian," aku menduga - yah, baiklah, berharap - dia akan berkata begitu, "Itu karena aku tidak sanggup membayangkanmu membahayakan dirimu sendiri. Kau tahu, aku mencintaimu, Heather. Aku selalu mencintaimu.

Morgan: How fuckin' retarded do you have to be to get shit-canned from that job? How hard is it to push a fuckin' broom? Chuckie: You got fired from pushing a broom, you little bitch. Morgan: Yah, that was different. Management was restructurin'. Billy: Yah, restructurin' the amount of retards they had workin' for them.

Out we jumped in the warm, mad night, hearing a wild tenorman's bawling horns across the way going, ee-YAH, ee-YAH, and hands clapping to the beat and folks yelling go, go, go. And far from escorting the girls into the place, Dean Moriarty was already racing across the street with his huge bandaged thumb in the air yelling, BLOW, MAN, BLOW!

They took their cue from Niall Duggan, a courtly type who spoke in puns, inversions, mock-ee-yah Irish and Sic transit, sonorous, brief bursts of Latin, which always triggered heavy assent, Carpe, yes, carpe indeed. It was a high style of bullshit, quite formal, with no jokes about sex, no disrespecting women. Or no mentioning women, now I come to think about it. Except face to face, when he was often obscene.

He’s left th’ gate at t’ full swing, and Miss’s pony has trodden dahn two rigs o’ corn, and plottered through, raight o’er into t’ meadow!  Hahsomdiver, t’ maister ‘ull play t’ devil to-morn, and he’ll do weel.  He’s patience itsseln wi’ sich careless, offald craters—patience itsseln he is!  Bud he’ll not be soa allus—yah’s see, all on ye!  Yah mun’n’t drive him out of his heead for nowt!’ ‘Have you found Heathcliff, you ass?’ interrupted Catherine.

Irad, who would be in charge while I was gone, walked up to me. "Sereni, you do not take Yah with you?" "We do not need to take the ark to have Yah with us," I explained. "Yah is a great enough God that He can go where He wills. The ark will remain here in the care of Abiathar and Beriah." "The people are glad of that, sereni, but are you saying that Yahweh can stay with us and yet go with you?" "Yes. His presence is not tied to the ark in the house.

Yah, aku tidak memiliki gaya, memang, aku sendiri tahu aku tidak memiliki gaya, sialan; itulah justru sebabnya aku tidak sukses dalam pekerjaanku, dan inilah aku bahkan menulis surat padamu, sayangku, sebagaimana adanya, tanpa hiasan-hiasan dan menuruti apa yang terbetik dalam hatiku .... Aku tahu semua ini; tetapi jika semua orang mulai mengarang, maka siapa yang akan menyalin? Itulah pertanyaan yang aku ajukan, dan aku minta kamu menjawabnya sayangku.

The student was silent. Soen-sa said, “What color is this?” The student said, “You have eyes.” Soen-sa said, “Eyes? These are not eyes. They are holes in my face.” (Laughter.) “I ask you once again—what color is this door?” The student was silent. Soen-sa said, “It is brown.” “But if I'd said brown, you would've said I'm attached to color!” Soen-sa said, “Brown is only brown.” Then, pointing to a glass of water, “What is this?” “Water.” “Yah. Water is water. This is not thinking. When you said ‘water’—this mind. This mind is very important. It is a clear mirror. Red comes, the mirror is red. Yellow comes, the mirror is yellow. Water comes, there is water. A door comes, there is a door. If you are not thinking, your mind is the same as a mirror. It is only like this. So true emptiness is clear mind. In original clear mind there is no name and no form. Nothing appears or disappears. All things are just as they are. If you are thinking, you are in a dream. You must cut off all your thinking and wake up.

And yet the king and his people did not love McAllister. In truth, they hated him horribly, and, to my knowledge, the whole population, with the priests at the head, tried vainly for three months to pray him to death. The devil-devils they sent after him were awe-inspiring, but since McAllister did not believe in devil-devils, they were without power over him. With drunken Scotchmen all signs fail. They gathered up scraps of food which had touched his lips, an empty whiskey bottle, a cocoanut from which he had drunk, and even his spittle, and performed all kinds of deviltries over them. But McAllister lived on. His health was superb. He never caught fever; nor coughs nor colds; dysentery passed him by; and the malignant ulcers and vile skin diseases that attack blacks and whites alike in that climate never fastened upon him. He must have been so saturated with alcohol as to defy the lodgment of germs. I used to imagine them falling to the ground in showers of microscopic cinders as fast as they entered his whiskey-sodden aura. No one loved him, not even germs, while he loved only whiskey, and still he lived.

To put the matter bluntly, U.S. soldiers on Bataan and Corregidor showed themselves more stalwart than British imperial forces in Malaya and at Singapore, albeit likewise in a doomed cause. Brigadier Dwight Eisenhower, who had served unhappily under MacArthur a few years earlier, wrote in his diary: “Poor Wainwright! He did the fighting … [MacArthur] got such glory as the public could find … MacArthur’s tirades, to which … I so often listened in Manila … would now sound as silly to the public as they then did to us. But he’s a hero! Yah.” At home in the United States, news commentators squeezed every ounce of glory from Bataan, from skirmishes at sea and manifestations of America’s embryo mobilisation.

My thanks for your hospitality, Roran Stronghammer,” he said, raising his voice so that his entire troop could hear. “Mayhap I will soon have the honor of entertaining you within the walls of Aroughs. If so, I promise to serve you the finest wines from my family’s estate, and perhaps with them I will be able to wean you off such barbaric milk as you have there. I think you will find our wine has much to recommend it. We let it age in oaken casks for months or sometimes even years. It would be a pity if all that work were wasted and the casks were knocked open and the wine were allowed to run out into the streets and paint them red with the blood of our grapes.” “That would indeed be a shame,” Roran replied, “but sometimes you cannot avoid spilling a bit of wine when cleaning your table.” Holding the horn out to one side, he tipped it over and poured what little mead remained onto the grass below. Tharos was utterly still for a moment--even the feathers on his helm were motionless--then, with an angry snarl, he yanked his horse around and shouted at his men, “Form up! Form up, I say…Yah!” And with that final yell, he spurred his horse away from Roran, and the rest of the soldiers followed, urging their steeds to a gallop as they retraced their steps to Aroughs. Roran maintained his pretense of arrogance and indifference until the soldiers were well away, then he slowly released his breath and rested his elbows on his knees. His hands were trembling slightly. It worked, he thought, amazed.

My friends, I have been asked to show you my heart. I am glad to have a chance to do so. I want the white people to understand my people. Some of you think an Indian is like a wild animal. This is a great mistake. I will tell you all about our people, and then you can judge whether an Indian is a man or not. I believe much trouble would be saved if we opened our hearts more. I will tell you in my way how the Indian sees things. The white man has more words to tell you how they look to him, but it does not require many words to speak the truth. What I have to say will come straight from my heart, and I will speak with a straight tongue. The Great Spirit is looking at me, and will hear me. My name is In-mut-too-yah-lat-lat [Thunder Traveling over Mountains]. I am chief of the Wal-lamwat- kin band of the Chute-pa-lu, or Nez Perce. I was born in eastern Oregon, thirty-eight winters ago. My father was chief before me. When a young man, he was called Joseph by Mr. Spaulding, a missionary. He died a few years ago. He left a good name on earth. He advised me well for my people. Our fathers gave us many laws, which they had learned from their fathers. These laws were good. They told us to treat all men as they treated us, that we should never be the first to break a bargain, that it was a disgrace to tell a lie, that we should speak only the truth, that it was a shame for one man to take from another his wife or his property without paying for it. We were taught to believe that the Great Spirit sees and hears everything, and that He never forgets; that hereafter

For the Hebrews, names provided a direct link with the Creator. They understood words as being the creative fire of God, the ‘black fire on white fire’ of His Law. Every utterance and every act of creation through which He revealed Himself was not only word made flesh but fire made flesh. The word for ‘being’, yesh, ‘to exist’ or ‘to have substance’ was flame–breathed. The word for ‘fire’, esh, was embedded in the word for ‘being’ and in the very notion of ‘being human’. The rabbis were said to have asked: Why is the word for ‘woman’, ishah? Because she is fire, esh. Why is the word for ‘man’, ish? Because he too is fire, esh. They noted that when the Hebrew letters for ‘man’ and ‘woman’ came together they produced a new word as part of the union: yah, a reference to Yahweh, the Name of God.

(Summer of 2010) Chiaz Natherth- It was just going to be a typical summer day. I am at the local watering hole with my bud Melvin Shezor; we were just there to gaze at the girl gaze, sitting on lawn chairs. I had warm lemonade in my right hand at the time. I am looking around at all the bodies that are bobbing in the water; they all just seem to blend. The lifeguard is blowing her whistle while screaming at the little kids that are running around. Some stunning bodies are smacking the cold blue water with great speed, from the high dive. But- there is no more perfect figure there than hers. Everyone else seems to fade away out of my vision, along with all the ear-shattering noises. Bryan Adams ‘Heaven’ is playing in the background, and it seemed to be pronounced to my senses. When I am looking at her, it is like she is moving in slow motion, swimming across the pool. She climbed up the ladder and out of the pool. Her body dripping with water… what a moment, there is even water dripping down her chest. She looks amazing in that petite pink bikini. I was thinking to myself, that is a very cute looking camel-toe you got showing there Nevaeh! I never knew that she had a heart-shaped belly button piercing, when did that happen? Also, I could tell that her swimsuit was made by her, just like most of the sun-dresses she wears in the summertime too. Because it was not like any others I have ever seen around, it is cute, somewhat skimpy, and tailored to her perfect body. The fabric was not meant to get wet, it was somewhat see-through, yet she did not know, though it looks very good what can I say. She is walking towards me while running her fingers through her long brown hair. ‘I was thinking this is too good to be for real.’ She walked by and said ‘hi!’ and I was at loss for words. She was already gone, but I still babbled something like ‘Ahh-he-oll-o.’ At that point, into the changing room, she went, and I just sat there trying to fathom what had just happened. Melvin Shezor- ‘Chiaz! Ah, Chiaz! Hello, earth to Chiaz, snap out of its dude.’ Chiaz Naztherth- ‘She is so fine! I would not mind having her on my arm.’ Melvin Shezor- ‘Yah, the man she is not bad. But- isn’t she into girls though. So, do you like Nevaeh?’ Chiaz Naztherth- ‘I do not think that she is, and well… Yes, did you see her in that swimsuit? She is adorable in every way.’ Melvin Shezor- ‘Really is that so? Go talk to her!’ Chiaz Naztherth- ‘No way!’ Melvin Shezor- ‘Why not, you pussy!’ Chiaz Naztherth- ‘If Alissa finds out that I like her, or even looked at her I am going to die.’ Melvin Shezor- ‘Ha, it sucks to be you man.’ Chiaz Natherth- ‘Hey, I will see you later, I got to go.’ (Text messages are going off… like crazy) Melvin Shezor- ‘Pu-ss-y!’ (Shouting as Chiaz Natherth is walking out the exit gate.) (Chiaz- He just waved it off, with the finger that is not supposed to be used in public, and does not think any more about it from that point on.) Chiaz Naztherth- Summer is over! Yet she is with him… he is so unconfident in himself that he has to follow me around. He gives me vain advice on what to do, and how to do it, yet I would have to say I need to stand up for myself more than what I do, yet I do not because of her. He attempts to belittle me, with his words of temperament to her. These results lead to her having breakdowns, where she is feeling miserable because she is stuck in the middle. She does not know what to do! She doesn't know how to feel! She does not want to hurt anyone's feelings, yet she is the one that is left to choke on her tears. Yes, I will save you long before you drowned!

Yah, loe nggak perlu terlalu cemas. Selama iman loe masih kuat—atau paling tidak selama pikiran loe masih cukup waras—loe akan aman dari jeratan Lunarchist.

I was left feeling Yah's emotions. But, also - something else: the most curious of feelings; control.

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wanted to, like now. “You’re good on the guitar. Really good. That’s all! I know you will do great!” “Ugh!” Josh dropped down on the couch and threw his head back. Dad stared, bewilderment painted on his face. “What? I don’t see what the big deal is.” Really, Dad? Why couldn’t he see this was the worst thing that could happen? All the guys his age would think he was above them. And he’d never get any friends! Mom sighed and leaned against the door jamb. Josh ran both hands through his hair. Thinking. Of course? Why hadn’t he thought of it sooner. “Who’s playing drums? The old guy, or Trevor?” Dad shrugged. “Uh, well I don’t know. But I’m pretty sure I could I have the young kid your age play Sunday, if you want me to.” Dad looked at Mom, then back at him. “Would that help?” Josh crossed his hands on top of his head. Thinking. Hard. “I am ‘the boss,’ you know. Right? I can pull some strings if you want me to.” Josh thought hard for another brief moment. Coming to a decision, he blurted, “Yah. Okay. I think that will work.” Dad’s face lit up. He looked over at Mom and smiled. “Okay. Let me see what I can do.” Yes, this would work. “Yeah, Dad. If Trevor plays, I’ll play!” Mom laughed. “Who’s the boss now?” The following Sunday morning, Josh spent thirty minutes straight in front of the mirror, tweaking strands of hair. He slammed the hairbrush down and growled, “Ugh! What is wrong with my stupid hair?” He would never be able to get it to look like Trevor’s—always styled with just the right amount of hair product

As clear as the sky on a cloudy day. Yah, I remember it, alright.

Teen uk’al k’iinam. Teen uk’al yah.” I drink your ache. I drink your pain.

LOLA    I know what you mean. Whenever I help Marie in some way, it makes me feel good. DOC    Yah. (LOLA takes her cup to DOC and he washes it) Yes, but this is a lot different, Baby. When I go out to help some poor drunk, I have to give him courage—to stay sober like I’ve stayed sober. Most alcoholics are disappointed men.… They need courage … LOLA You weren’t ever disappointed, were you, Daddy? DOC    (After another evasive pause) The important thing is to forget the past and live for the present. And stay sober doing it.

Because the honor I had from Yah was so great, it didn't matter whether human beings gave me a sar's robe or a shepherd's robe to hang from my shoulders. What mattered was whether I would remain a true son to Yahweh.

Kum-ba-freaking-yah

Jude held with haints, held with beasts and goblins, and now, a shrew in the woods kept secret by trees and herby potions, she held with magic. This was the right source of magic, the genuine kind passed through blood, from ear to ear, from autnies and cousins and grandmothers ageless.

Jude held with haints, held with beasts and goblins, and now, a shrew in the woods kept secret by trees and herby potions, she held with magic. This was the right source of magic, the genuine kind passed through blood, from ear to ear, from aunties and cousins and grandmothers ageless.

Jude could not name the emotion that settled over her. It was blue and yellow at the edges, like a memory of a memory half-remembered, softened with age but made lovelier by nostalgia.

Jude felt - well, if she were honest with herself, Jude would say she felt akin to the knife she held. It was a simple kitchen knife, one of a set, but it had a honed sharpness that Jude liked and a clean steel blade. The wood fit perfectly into the curve of her hand, and when she used it, it felt like an extension of her arm. When she sharpened it, she was sharpening her own self. Back and forth, back and forth, grinding down on the whetstone until they were both sharp enough to cleave and cut and slice.

So many times, Jude felt as though she were merely borrowing her body. Somewhere else was another Jude missing her hands and feet, saddled by an overabundance of emotion, of memory. And here she was, saddled with the body, the eyes and mouth, and bleeding heart, but without the soul to match it.

It seems Poppy was right about the mosh pit, after all. And there she is, right in the middle of it. The flowers bounce along the grasping hands to tumble to the dance floor, where the women scramble for it like football players going after a greased fumble. Caylee hikes up her dress and scoots back from the incoming wave of women with a shout encouraging them to ‘get it!’ It’s a heap of tulle, lace, and pretty dresses, but Poppy squirms over and around them, dodging and weaving before popping up with the slightly crushed flowers in her hands. “Boo-yah!” She holds it up high in triumph, and the other women laugh, instantly realizing that they were going ham over a dozen roses they could buy at the grocery store.

IF YAH DOESN’T GIVE THEM EYES TO SEE YOUR ASSIGNMENT, THEY WILL QUESTION, MISUNDERSTAND, OR MOCK YOUR MOVES. NOT YOUR BATTLE.

Dahulu, saudara-saudaraku orang banyak itu, selalu kubayangkan sebagai pihak yang selalu salah mengerti, salah tafsir, kejam memaksakan kehendak bersama mereka ke atas kemerdekaan pribadiku. Dahulu mereka kuanggap musuh yang harus dijebol, sebagai baksil-baksil yang menodai kemerdekaan hidupku, karena mereka selalu mendahuluiku untuk berpikir. Aku pernah membenci mereka, berusaha dengan licik untuk menimpakan kesalahan kepada mereka. Tetapi malam ini, pada saat mereka juga tidak memperkenankan aku mati, aku sadar. Ya Tuhan. Dengarkanlah suaraku di samping suara kodok dan suara daun cemara itu, aku telah memutuskan untuk kembali kepada mereka. Bukan karena aku merasa kalah, yah katakan kalah juga boleh, tapi terutama karena mereka baru saja mengatakan kepadaku, bahwa mereka bukannya tidak mengerti tingkah lakuku, hanya mereka tidak punya waktu untuk meladeninya, sebab mereka sendiri juga kepepet. Tuhan...

Then the whole congregation joined in: “The Flowers of our loving Yah, Shine brighter than the sun, We hold them in our hearts with love, And they will never run.

heal.” Paramedics rushed in to take him from the officers. So wrapped up was she in the moment that Rachel hadn’t even heard the ambulance approaching. “You have to let these people do their job,” the same officer said gently. “Stand back please.” Rachel turned her eyes towards the young man. “This is my fiancé,” she whispered. “He’s been missing for more than three days, and I thought he might be dead. Please, don’t send me away.” The female paramedic nodded at the officer, and he let her step close. She reached out and touched the arm that didn’t seem to be injured. “I’ve been praying and praying for you,” she whispered near his ear. “And Gott sent a host of angels to help me find you.” “You found me?” he asked, his eyes drinking her in. “How?” Before she could answer, the paramedic intervened. “We’re going to take him to the hospital. You can ride along in the back. Sir, if you’ll just lie down on the stretcher?” Isaac cooperated, but never let his eyes leave her face. “You look so different,” he managed to say through his split lip. “Yah,” she agreed, touching the hair that he’d never really seen except when wisps escaped her kapp. “You too.” Now he did laugh, but it was clear that it pained him. “Sorry! I wasn’t thinking.” “Nee, it’s okay. If I don’t laugh, I might cry, and what woman wants to see her beau cry?” “I don’t care,” she returned passionately, striding alongside the stretcher as he was wheeled toward the waiting ambulance. “I only care that you’re in one piece.” Just as they were getting into the vehicle, the same young officer approached her. “I’ll meet you at the hospital to take a statement, Miss…?” “Uh, Swartz, Rachel Swartz. But I don’t really know anything.” “Still, I’ll see you there.” The doors closed and Rachel looked up to see her three champions standing side by side at the top of the hill, waving at her. She prayed a blessing on them and hoped to see them soon. At the hospital, Isaac was taken into the emergency ward and Rachel was forced to wait outside. On the way over, Isaac had tried to tell her what he knew, but it didn’t make much sense. The

Saeris – Sair-Iss Rusarius — Roo-sar-ee-us Omnamshacry — Om-nam-sha-cry Iseabail — Ee-sha-bahl Belikon —Bell-eh-con. Oshellith — Oh-shay-lith. Taladaius — Tal-ah-day-us Daianthus — Day-an-thus Lorreth — Lor-uth Balquhidder Clan— Bal-kid-er (clan) Te Lèna —Tay Len-Ah Danya — Dan-Yah

Jenny-yah!

My parents assure me that God hates gays,” I elaborate when he says nothing. “They do not. In general, non-humans practice pansexuality. It doesn’t make sense to limit your options to one gender when some species that you might be sexually compatible with don’t have binary genders. The god Yah—that is the god that your parents worship—is non-binary. It would make no sense for them to have a preference for a specific gender pairing when they don’t have a binary gender themselves.

You've got bluebirds in your-- Yah, I know. Happens whenever I heal someone. Pops called 'em the bluebirds of healing. My beard is their magical home.

He guides the photographers to his sawmill now, cutting between the backside of the shed that stores the cannon and the woven wire fence establishing the boundary of the interstate right-of-way. Across the highway, a white cross is visible. It is fourteen feet tall and stands on Tom’s property, just outside the state fence line. He points it out for the photographers. Yah, n’that cross over there, there was a woman state trooper killed over there. They wanted to put a memorial up for her but the state wouldn’t allow a crucifix on public land. So they come to me, asked me if they could put it on my land. I said sure, on one condition: You make it big as you can.

She cackled. “Don’t reckon he’d be up for that-n.” “I don’t reckon at all,” Solomon said, going over to kneel before her for inspection. “How are those legs of yours?” “Sexy as all get out,” she said, pulling her bathrobe up and wagging her feet. “I could probably out run yah, but don’t want to make you look pitiful.

You okay?” she asked. “Wild dreams.” “Yah, me too. We bring up everything in each other.” “How do you mean?” “I mean: the brighter the love, the darker the

Go On Break Her Heart Go On Break Her Heart? Let Her Think Lifes Not Worth Living? Tear Her Heart Apart But she'll always be forgiving! She Will Always Love You && she'll tell you every day But your love was too good to be true But im sure she will be Okay? Someday? It can become way to much to bare And somday this girl.. Well she just wont care She'll go on thinking lifes not fair! She'll think about you every day And she'll make you realise what you threw away Like you'll give a damn tho? She knows its time for her to go? For shes threatened by tha fate of people saying 'told yah so' She will always love you! But i guess for her second best will have to do! You'll be forever in her heart But sometimes whats torn is best to be kept apart!

Shum leapt on his horse and disappeared. A tree crashed down right behind Shum, followed by a loud yell. “WHERE ARE YOU?” An ettin emerged. It stood as tall as the trees. Its dark eyes found Bayzog. “Oh no!” he said, snapping the reins. Thoom! Thoom! Thoom! Thoom! The ettin ran right after him. Shum realized his error. He had assumed the ettin would come for him, not Bayzog. That had been his plan, but plans change. He turned his horse and galloped after the ettin. Ahead, two big heads bobbed up and down. Massive arms swung at its sides like hammers. The ettin’s giant strides covered the ground as fast as a horse. He dug his heels into his steed. “Yah!” The horse thundered ahead. Shum’s horse wasn’t just any horse, but a special one bred by the Roaming Rangers. Big and sleek, the Roamer Stallions were the rarest horse breed in the land. This was one of the fastest creatures on

Before you can tell someone to fuck off, you need to be able to say hello to them first. Just like in most languages, saying hello (γεια σου; YAH-soo) is pretty straightforward and simple.

Those mountains to the right,” Waxillium said, pointing. “Those are some taller peaks than the ones we’ve been passing.” “Yah!” Allik said. “Good eye, O Observan—” “Stop with the titles.” “Yes, um, O Confusing … er…” Allik took a deep breath.

Yah... seperti itulah cinta. Dia bisa datang tiba-tiba, bisa juga bersembunyi sekian lama tanpa kita sadari. Namun saat menyadari, kamu akan tahu, tak bisa melepaskan cinta itu begitu saja.

Oooh yah, it’s good to be back in da Yoop, eh?” Katie crowed out in an exaggerated Yooper accent as they crossed the bridge to Hancock.

Kau sudah pernah melakukan ini?" "Tentu. Ratusan kali -- yah, setidaknya puluhan kali." "Dengan anggota Partai." Ya. Selalu dengan anggota Partai." "Dengan anggota Partai Inti?" "Tidak dengan celeng-celeng itu! Emoh. Tapi, banyak dari mereka yang mau kalau saja ada peluang sekecil apa pun. Mereka tidak sesuci lagaknya.

I was curious and excited to go to a dance club since I had never been and was dying to experience Dubai's nightlife. I said excitedly, "Yah! Let's go! I've never been to a nightclub. I want to go!

I’m already further along than he got. Boo-yah!” “Oh my God, really?” Of course he’d gotten further than Brandt. The moment my lips had touched his ... he’d been further along than Brandt had ever gotten. Setting my hands on my hips, I glared. “This is not a fucking competition between brothers.” “Oh, I know,” he said seriously enough, right before he broke out in another grin and winked. “It’s still nice to know I’m in the lead, though.” “Oh my God, you are so annoying.

You have more control than I’ve given you credit for. I underestimated you, Muse.” Yah think?

The story goes on to say that six months later, the angel Gabriel appeared to Mary and told her she was going to bare a son by the Spirit of YHWH. Luke says, just as Gabriel promised, Mary bore a son and they called him Yeshua, which in Hebrew means ‘Salvation of YAH.’” Jacob looked over at Zane and said, “Sorry, Zane, but ‘Jesus’ just doesn’t convey the same meaning to me. I hope you know I mean no disrespect?

Yah, right. Crazy people. Mas Locos. But one thing about crazy people--they see things other people don't.

I'm pretty short-tempered, you butthead. But I guess I gotta wait a little while before I can blow up at yah.

Lelaki muda itu tersenyum-senyum, masih berdiri saja di ambang pintu, sesekali matanya kembali meliriki pajangan di balik jendela. “Ah, ada surga, kan? Kalau tidak ada surga, rasanya mengecewakan sekali, sudah hidup lama-lama dan melelahkan seperti ini dan tidak dapat pembalasan apa-apa.” “Siapa yang tahu? Rasanya capek sekali juga, kan, kalau habis mati, kau masih harus hidup lagi? Mau di mana juga; surga kek, neraka kek; hidup ya hidup saja. Terus kalau kau sudah bosan hidup di sana, kau bisa apa? Tidak bisa mati, kau kan sudah mati. Nah, terus, orang-orang yang di neraka itu; bagaimana mereka? Di neraka terus saja, selamanya? Mampuslah sudah. Hmmm, sepertinya lebih asyik kalau bisa mati dan sudah, mati saja. Tapi, jangan bilang-bilang orang lain. Kalau kedengaran aku bilang begini, aku akan digantung di menara jam dan dituduh tidak bertuhan. Yah, begitulah orang zaman sekarang. Kalau tidak percaya pada hal yang sama dengan mereka, kau setan. Tidak boleh berpikir sama sekali, sepertinya. Saya rasa, mereka rasa, berpikir itu kerjaannya setan! Padahal kita kan disuruh sering-sering berpikir, benar tidak?

Sebagian besar bus mengalami hal yang sama dengan saya: dibesarkan orang yang bukan merupakan pencipta mereka. Dan mungkin, memang lebih baik begitu; dibesarkan orang-orang yang akan menyayangi kami lebih baik daripada hidup bersama orang yang memang membuat kami, tapi tidak peduli pada kami. Yah, mungkin ada yang berpendapat lain. Tapi, menurut saya, lebih baik begitu.

Oh, and one more thing,' he added casually, pausing on the gangplank. 'The resistance has found out that the Reapers are planning to capture you, Max, at tonight's performance. They know about your disguise.' 'What?!' Max stared at Emil in horror. 'Yah, I know,' said Emil, shrugging. 'It is not so good.

Mira –dijo–, yo pertenezco al Legado Científico. El Partido. ¿Entiendes? Fue decisión mía; es el bando que he escogido. El dolor y la enfermedad son algo que debe ser erradicado, no comprendido. No hay otra vida y Dios no existe, salvo quizá bajo la forma de una extraña perturbación de la ionosfera que está jodiendo mi equipo en esta montañita de mierda. Si cuando muera descubro que me he equivocado, alegaré como circunstancias atenuantes mi ignorancia y el hecho de que me educaron mal. Mientras tanto, me interesa mucho más proteger mis cables y eliminar la interferencia que no mantener largas conversaciones con ese tal Yah.

Yaho, wah, wowee, wowee, yah, weh, wowwee, wowee, yaho, wah, wowee, wow.