Yoshi Quotes

Everything you say matters," Yoshi's father had once said to him. "Whenever you say something, you are now the person who has said that.

...O-suzu left whatever work she was doing at her sewing machine and dragged Takeo back to O-yoshi and her son. How dare you behave so selfishly! Now tell O-yoshi-san that you are sorry. Get down on the mats and make a proper bow!

The world beyond the water was a blue of green and stone and blue. A moment later Yoshi pushed through, the water pouring down in sheets so smooth it looked like glass, and stepped into the calm [p. 296]

Are you also going to inform me I need to be as swift as a fire so I may move mountains in the wind?” Yoshi

Dark now. Blacker than black, I know it. And words are tiny things in the face of all that dark and all that cold. But hear these words, little sister. Hear and know. Tomorrow is coming, just as fast as the turning of the sky. And as sure as it’s black now, the sun will rise. Always. No matter how faint the glow.

Yeah,” "Jah said, seriously taking in Spooky’s words. “You’re right, my dude. I’m just gonna lay it out for shorty and let the cards fall wherever they fall.” “That’s what I’m talking about.” Spooky nudged him. “And when you speak to Yoshi, ask her if she’s got a friend.” “How the hell … ?” “Jah, you’re like my brother. I know you.” Spooky gave him a wink.

I'm desperate for money'. She said. 'And I'm willing to march into hell if I'm following you'. (Yoshie Azuma)

Shinobi from the first have been utilized by generals since ancient times with a great emphasis. It is the case that one man and his strategy can destroy tens of thousand of enemies, attain virtue and achievements, or make his way where there is no path. Even if you try to block these men with an iron gate, they can outwit you in such a skilled way, as if guided by a divine power. None could do better than them.

Traditions of the Shinobi: Those who are active as shinobi should try their best to see, hear, or write down what they should know and, in secret, to collect the information about a place, even while in battle. This will enable you to steal into the enemy territory with tactics.

Color corrected, yes, but I am reminding myself that it is still an image worthy of awe.” Yoshi is looking at the screen. “Why shouldn’t we feel awe? In front of a beautiful painting we do not ask ourselves is it real? We know that it is not real. It is a painting. But we can still be filled with awe at its beauty.” It

Seems to be catching." "What is?" asked Neku. "Wanting Kit dead." Neku shrugged. "He was fucking the wife of a gang boss and bikers used his bar to deal drugs, plus lots of uyoku felt Yoshi Tanaka should be married to someone Japanese. Then there's chippu he owed to the local police and unpaid bills from a Brazilian transvestite who mends his motorcycle. It could have been anyone.

The entire time they had been “training” Yoshi had taunted him.  ‘All you need to do is walk away.’ ‘This is not fun for me, either.’ ‘I take it back. This is fun.’ ‘Only sissies vomit…’ ‘Well I guess I am looking at a sissy.’  Richter kept upright through the day out of pure spite.  He had pride and would not be broken.  Who cares if it now took twenty minutes to walk a hundred yards?  That’s not the point.

Secret Teachings on Preparing Shinobi Missions: The most important thing you should keep in mind when you go on a shinobi mission is to imitate well the language of the target province and the ways of the local people. This includes their appearances, the way of wearing clothes, the way of shaving the head, the way of making up their hair, the way of making up a sword or short sword, and the way of refinement and luxury.

At our annual March Madness Mario Kart Tournament---along with the twins and Javy, Maggie and Juliet---when Lou's Toadette nearly upset the top-seeded Yoshi in the second round but got blasted by a blue shell right before the finish line, and Lou started swearing and couldn't stop. Farfar couldn't stop grinning, his hands folded behind his head, the rest of us crying from laughter. (I was in seventh grade when I realized March Madness had anything do with basketball.)

What a Shinobi Should Keep in Mind to Know the Enemy: It is essential for a shinobi monomi [covert scout] to speculate deeply about the way the enemy is. However, you should not report what is not reasonable enough to report. The commander in chief, troop commanders, or strategists make their strategy about the enemy based on the information given from the above covert scouts. This is critical to defense; whether the information is reliable or not is of vital importance.

On the above matters there is much to be orally transmitted, as these are our deepest secrets and are kept within our family. Even between a father and a son or brothers, it should never be passed down to anyone who is undeserving, or without due consideration. To people other than those in the family, never show or give away even a word, without exception... This manuscript has the deepest secrets and the core principles of the correct way, and it should be kept inside, deep in one's mind.

The Koka Ryu Ninjutsu Densho is a short yet intriguing ninjutsu manual... The manual itself is highly interesting and is a mix of clearly authentic ninja skills and a belief in the power and aid of the gods. It includes ritualistic spells to aid a ninja's work--rituals that are also found in other, unquestionably authentic manuals.

Have we discussed the birds and the bees, Gubben?" Farfar said, just as we started our third lap on Wario's Gold Mine, the one track I hated almost as much as Rainbow Road. "Uh... I'm pretty sure that was covered in online health." I launched my red shell, which he deftly blocked with the banana peel he'd been holding on to. I finished fourth after getting hit by a stupid ricocheting green shell, Farfar's Yoshi already halfway through its victory lap.

Yoshie scooped some of the cake's topping onto her finger. "This cream. Why does it smell so good?" "Satoko mixed peach juice into it. Fushimi used to be famous for peaches, after all--- I mean, the Momoyama castle was even named after them.

Yoshi. All week she had been throwing shots on Facebook and threatening me on my voicemail. That bitch just signed her Death Certificate. I

Sometimes Madoka is able to grasp what Yoshi talks about, this incredible thing they are -- they will be -- doing. Human presence on another planet, a monumental breakthrough for the species, for the history of human life. And other times, like now, this huge thing breaks down to the tiniest of particles, the brume of Martian dust, as Yoshi has described it. Why should a woman bound by her own feet to her planet and suffocating, or a man caught between worlds while his children sing "Happy Birthday" to him, why should these things not stop us all, in awe, in terror?

And you shouldn’t dismiss your abilities. It insults both you and me at the same time.” Another raise of his brows. She suspected people did not often speak to Yoshi in such a direct manner. “Is that so?” “Yes. You insult yourself by dismissing skills that took you a lifetime to develop. At the same time you insult me by stating that I need only try—as though the only hindrance is my own lack of effort.

The pair moving together like poetry, cutting the sky to ribbon and the Yomi birds to pieces.

An indigo bottle is placed in front of us. "First rule of sake." Yoshi picks up the flask and one of the matching ceramic cups. "Never pour for yourself." He pours a shot for Taka and me. I reciprocate, pouring one for Yoshi. We hold the cups close to our faces and sniff. Sweet notes rise up and we toast. "Kanpai!" Then we sip. The rice wine goes down cold but warms my belly. A few more sips and my limbs are warm, too. Scallops and yellowtail sashimi are served. We sip more sake. By the time the yakitori arrives, our bottle is empty and my cheeks are hot. The group of salarymen have grown rowdy, their ties loosened. Yoshi winks at the pink-haired girls and they collapse into a fit of giggles. My God, to have such power over the opposite sex. Gyoza is next. The fried pork dumplings dipped in chili oil burn my mouth but soak up some of the sake, and I sober a little, just in time for the group of salarymen to send us a round of shōchū, starchier than the sake but delicious all the same. We toast to them, to the bar, to the night, to Tokyo. My stomach is near bursting when the chef places agedashi---fried tofu---in front of us. Finally, Taka orders fermented squid guts. I don't try it, but I laugh as he slurps them up.

The romantic in Yoshi has always appreciated the fact that Mars has no visible North Star. It points not at Polaris, as Earth does, but at a position in the sky that aligns neither with Deneb in Cygnus, nor Alderamin in Cepheus, but at some midway point too dim to have a name. You could say that the planet named for the God of War points at darkness.

Fuck, seriously? Your safe word for handcuffed, tied down anal sex is gonna be Bowser?” She laughs too. “Yours is still Yoshi, right? I just want us to match.

Conversely, even a foulmouthed, ill-tempered boy may hold kindness in his heart. It may be an overstatement to describe Bakugo as kind, but surely he is not wicked.

Cuando conocí a Yoshie, vi que el fútbol no le importaba nada. Esa fue otra de las razones para entendernos. Estar en minoría frente a todo el mundo es otra patria, pienso.

Flying was the bomb. The jungle slipped beneath Anna, brimming with the shrieks of birds, the buzz of insects. Three-fourths of Team Killbot skimmed the canopy like a hot-air balloon, the treetops brushing their feet. It wasn’t technically flying, Anna reminded herself. She, Javi, and Molly couldn’t maintain their altitude. They wafted down every thirty seconds or so, crashing softly into the web of branches before pushing off again. But even if it was only jumping—it was jumping really far. Each push took them hundreds of feet through the mists. Molly had found bungee cords in someone’s luggage, and the team was tied together so nobody drifted out of the gravity device’s range, which was about thirty feet. The three of them had learned to jump in tandem to keep from spinning like a bola, but whenever a gust of wind stirred the misty treetops, it carried them adrift. Anna wondered if there was a way to control their flight. Maybe if they made wings? Or some kind of fan, like the propellers on an airship? “Yoshi! Are you out there?” Molly cried out at the top of their next leap. Anna listened as they arced downward into the treetops. No answer, except for a stirring of the birds that sounded like rusty hinges. She had distinguished four species by sound: the rusty-hinge birds, the cranky-baby birds, the slide-whistle birds, and of course the shredder birds. Luckily, she hadn’t heard any of those since they’d attacked Javi back at camp. “Okay,” Molly called. “Looks like this tree’s yours, Javi.” “I got it.” Their next landing tree was coming right at Javi, who was in the middle of the three of them. As they descended into the canopy, he reached out and grabbed the passing treetop. Anna felt the bungee cord pull at her waist, then she swung in a slow arc past Molly coming from the other direction. Their combined momentum bent the tree, like a catapult readying to fire. It swung

La buhardilla de Yoshie terminó convirtiéndose en una especie de centro cultural en miniatura. Un club secreto con dos socios. Allí discutíamos sobre cada película que habíamos visto. Leíamos los mismos libros, comprados o prestados o robados. Y consumíamos litros de un brebaje barato que, por identificarlo de algún modo, voy a llamar café.

Más que silencioso, creo que Yoshie era un conversador con efecto retardado. Siempre tenía mucho que decir sobre las cosas. Aunque rara vez lo decía mientras estaban sucediendo. Para mí no era prudencia, sino pánico al error. Prefería callar a equivocarse. Quería estar seguro de que sus opiniones iban a ser mejores que las tuyas. Así se ahorraba discusiones. Eso formaba parte de sus habilidades como economista. El problema era que las discusiones formaban parte de mis necesidades como periodista.

On one occasion, the students were asked in what natural form they would choose to be reborn. They excitedly cried out the names of different animals. When Yoshie's turn came, as his aunt Ineko would remind him for the rest of her life, he said he'd like to be turned into sand. And not just any old sand, he specified: the kind at the bottom of the ocean, so that no one could tread on him.

You could say they got punished for what they did, but when you know the circumstances you can’t help feeling sorry.” “Mm . . . that’s right.” “Afterwards Yamagami couldn’t make any kind of a living. This is a small place, and the dispute haunted him: wherever he went asking for work, no one would hire him. Up to now he seemed to be managing somehow with the money Yoshi brought in now and then.