Cross Pollination Zucchini Quotes

I emerged into the sticky-hot evening to find Ricky smoking on the hood of his battered car. Something about his mud-encrusted boots and the way he let smoke curl from his lips and how the sinking sun lit his green hair reminded me of a punk, redneck James Dean. He was all of those things, a bizarre cross-pollination of subcultures possible only in South Florida. ~ Ransom Riggs

Daniel Craig is brilliant as Bond: there is no question about that. But it's a different Bond. It's the cross pollination of 'The Bourne Identity' and 'James Bond;' that kind of style of filmmaking. ~ Pierce Brosnan

This girl is some strange cross-pollination of wide-eyed innocence and tear-your-balls-off scrappiness and all I can think is, where the hell has she been all my life? ~ Autumn Doughton

[L]ike people, ideas have social lives. They're one way when they're by themselves, and another when they're surrounded by their peers. Crammed together, they grow more uncertain, more interesting, more surprising; they come out of themselves and grow more appealing, and funnier. You wouldn't want all of intellectual life to be that social--we couldn't make progress that way. But there's a special atmosphere that develops whenever truly different ideas congregate, and, on the whole, it's too rare. ~ Joshua Rothman

The cross pollination of disciplines is fundamental to truly revolutionary advances in our culture. ~ Neil DeGrasse Tyson

Buckminster Fuller himself was fond of stating that what seems to be happening at the moment is never the full story of what is really going on. He liked to point out that for the honey bee, it is the honey that is important. But the bee is at the same time nature's vehicle for carrying out cross-pollination of the flowers. Interconnectedness is a fundamental principle of nature. Nothing is isolated. Each event connects with others. ~ Jon Kabat-Zinn

Cross-pollination and "contamination" is really important to the health of fiction, and sometimes it's a literal conversation, too, in that writers who might never otherwise meet and talk do so because of our anthologies. ~ Jeff VanderMeer

[W]hat seems to be happening at the moment is never the full story is really going on. [...] [F]or the honey bee, it is the honey that is important. But the bee is at the same time nature's vehicle for carrying out cross-pollination of the flowers. Interconnectedness is a fundamental principle of nature. Nothing is isolated. Each event connects with others. Things are constantly unfolding on different levels. ~ Jon Kabat-Zinn

This disappearance, this annihilation is all a matter of appearances as seen through the eyes of the false self. The annihilation is only apparent, for the self being annihilated is itself only apparent. It is a self without God, that is, a self that can never exist. What is annihilated is our false self, our external self made absolute, the imposter, the mask (persona), the liar we think we are but are not. The annihilation therefore is not annihilation at all, for nothing real or genuine is annihilated. Rather, what is genuine is affirmed as our psychological, historical, social self and placed in its true relationship to God. All that is annihilated is the illusion of the self that cannot bear God's presence, save as an idol fabricated for the ego's own glorification. It is this "self" that is "annihilated" through God's merciful love. The annihilation is merciful for it, in fact, is the antithesis of annihilation. It is rather an obscure, inexplicable foretaste in faith of our final consummation as created persons. It is the mystery of the cross creatively at work in the foundations of consciousness, recreating our awareness that we might know God as he knows himself. ~ James Finley

Let us cross over the river, and rest in the shade of the trees. ~ Thomas Jackson

The spot where God's triumph is achieved, God's victory over sin, over lawlessness, is the cross of Calvary- the cross on which the Son of God died. In that cross and through the cross the works of the devil were destroyed, and the One who conquered him is yet to bruise the serpent's head in the final triumph when He comes again, as recorded in prophecy. ~ Arno C. Gaebelein

And don't succumb too much to the spell of these cases. I have seen many other fragments of the cross, in other churches. If all were genuine, our Lord's torment could not have been on a couple of planks nailed together, but on an entire forest.'
'Master!' I said, shocked.
'So it is, Adso. And there are ever richer treasuries. Some time ago, in the cathedral of Cologne, I saw the skull of John the Baptist at the age of twelve.'
'Really?' I exclaimed, amazed. Then, siezed by doubt, I added, 'But the Baptist was executed at a more advanced age!'
'The other skull must be in another treasury,' William said, with a grave face. I never understood when he was jesting. ~ Umberto Eco

Then I think about how you went out, and I think… you know, it doesn't balance out. One selfless deed, after all the shit you did? No. But that's your cross to bear, not mine. I don't believe in an afterlife or anything like that, but, well, I guess that's the mark you left. When we die, all that's left are the memories, the place we take in people's hearts. ~ Wildbow

The Cross of Christ is the only gateway to knowledge. ~ Simone Weil

Who made these laws? That's what I want to know. So that's why I wear two crosses now. I call it double cross. I believe in God-not religion. ~ Ja Rule

After a hasty gulp, I lowered the bottle and grinned. "How much are you betting it's that and the melons they put in the fridge yesterday on the menu for tonight?"
Luke grinned but said nothing.
I shook my head. "You're grinning because I said "melons", aren't you?"
His smile widened. I rolled my eyes. Boys, they never grew up. ~ Violet Cross

I hear a thunder in the distance; see a vision of the cross. I feel the pain that was given on a sad day of loss. Only He holds the key: a light to free me from my burden and grant me life eternally. ~ Scott Stapp

I am a harmless old seller of apples," she said, in a voice more appropriate for the opening of hostilities in a middle-range war. "Pray let me past, dearie." The last word had knives in it.
"No-one must enter the castle," said one of the guards. "Orders of the duke."
Granny shrugged. The apple-seller gambit had never worked more than once in the entire history of witchcraft, as far as she knew, but it was traditional.
"I know you, Champett Poldy," she said. "I recall I laid out your grandad and I brought you into the world." She glanced at the crowds, which had regathered a little way off, and turned back to the guard, whose face was already a mask of terror. She leaned a little closer, and said, "I gave you your first good hiding in this valley of tears and by all the gods if you cross me now I will give you your last."
There was a soft metallic noise as the spear fell out of the man's fearful fingers. Granny reached and gave the trembling man a reassuring pat on the shoulder.
"But don't worry about it," she added. "Have an apple. ~ Terry Pratchett

God spoke to me clearly and said, 'Did I give my son Jesus on the cross expecting nothing in return?' God bankrupted heaven and gave the best gift he could give. He gave the best offering he could give. What did God need? He needed sons and daughters, he gave the very thing he needed. You can bring God a gift fully expecting something in return. Get to the phone!' ~ Paul Crouch

On one side hung a very large oil-painting so thoroughly besmoked, and every way defaced, that in the unequal cross-lights by which you viewed it, it was only by diligent study and a series of systematic visits to it, and careful inquiry of the neighbors, that you could any way arrive at an understanding of its purpose. such unaccountable masses of shades and shadows, that at first you almost thought some ambitious young artist, in the time of the New England hags, had endeavored to delineate chaos bewitched. But by dint of much and earnest contemplation, and oft repeated ponderings, and especially by throwing open the little window towards the back of the entry, you at last come to the conclusion that such an idea, however wild, might not be altogether unwarranted.

But what most puzzled and confounded you was a long, limber, portentous, black mass of something hovering in the centre of the picture over three blue, dim, perpendicular lines floating in a nameless yeast. A boggy, soggy, squitchy picture truly, enough to drive a nervous man distracted. Yet was there a sort of indefinite, half-attained, unimaginable sublimity about it that fairly froze you to it, till you involuntarily took an oath with yourself to find out what that marvellous painting meant. Ever and anon a bright, but, alas, deceptive idea would dart you through. - It's the Black Sea in a midnight gale. - It's the unnatural combat of the four primal elements. - It's a blasted heath. - It's a Hyperb ~ Herman Melville

The difference between knowing and believing is a deep chasm to cross without a safety net. ~ Leslie Kagen

Bailey, a former prosecutor, attacked her credibility scattershot, an approach he would use throughout the trial, particularly with female witnesses. ...

He accused her, that is--without coming out and saying it--of being a certain kind of woman: conceited, disingenuous, and dissatisfied. The universal misogynist caricature.

I'd never gone in for academic gender theories, but Bailey's cross-examination strategy--with Farrar and other women to come--convinced me that the culture of criminal justice has a fundamentally masculine tilt. Repeatedly, in a manner that I suspected was typical in modern courtrooms, he portrayed the female mind as intrinsically unreliable, ruled by emotion, immune to logic, prone to pettiness, swayed by lust, and corrupted by vanity. It rarely spoke plainly. It was seldom candid. It was composed of layers of hidden agendas. It put up a front, behind which was another front. It either aimed to please or to conceal, which were often the same thing. The only way to get the truth from it was to push and prod until it snapped. Make it angry. Make it cry. ~ Walter Kirn

A song playing comprises a very specific and vivid set of memory cues. Because the multiple-trace memory models assume that context is encoded along with memory traces, the music that you have listened to at various times of your life is cross-coded with the events of those times. That is, the music is linked to events of the time, and those events are linked to the music. ~ Daniel Levitin

A man's work reveals him. In social intercourse he gives you the surface that he wishes the world to accept, and you can only gain a true knowledge of him by inferences from little actions, of which he is unconscious, and from fleeting expressions, which cross his face unknown to him. Sometimes people carry to such perfection the mask they have assumed that in due course they actually become the person they seem. But in his book or his picture the real man delivers himself defenceless. His pretentiousness will only expose his vacuity. The lathe painted to look like iron is seen to be but a lathe. No affectation of peculiarity can conceal a commonplace mind. To the acute observer no one can produce the most casual work without disclosing the innermost secrets of the soul. ~ W. Somerset Maugham

At the cross of Christ, God fully expressed his holy judgment upon sin. ~ David Platt

For, as I have often told you before and now say again even with tears, many live as enemies of the cross of Christ. ~ Lysa TerKeurst

Intelligence helps you build a ship; wisdom helps you cross the ocean. ~ Matshona Dhliwayo

We affect one another quite enough merely by existing. Whenever the stars cross, or is it comets? fragments pass briefly from one orbit to another. On rare occasions there is total collision, but most often the two simply continue without incident, neither losing more than a particle to the other, in passing. ~ Gore Vidal

Perfection consists in one thing alone, which is doing the will of God. For, according to Our Lord's words, it suffices for perfection to deny self, to take up the cross and to follow Him. Now who denies himself and takes up his cross and follows Christ better than he who seeks not to do his own will, but always that of God? Behold, now, how little is needed to become as Saint? Nothing more than to acquire the habit of willing, on every occasion, what God wills. ~ St. Vincent

The theology of glory is inseparably linked with the theology of the Cross. The Suffering Servant has the great mission to bring God's light to the world. Yet it is in the darkness of the Cross that this mission is fulfilled. ~ Pope Benedict XVI

I would love to go to the Himalayas and cross over into Nepal to do the Darjeeling Himalayan Railway. ~ Natalie Dormer

I found my place when I moved to London, where I chose to live, making my own tribe who were all from different backgrounds and places. The class thing is very dominant there, but in the cultural cross-fertilization, I felt a sense of belonging. ~ Neneh Cherry

This can't be legal," she whispered.
He raised his head. "Why not?"
"It feels too good."
He chuckled. She heard the sound, felt the soft exhalation of cool air on her bare, damp breasts, but she couldn't see anything. Not him, not herself. It was strange, but in a good way. The darkness gave her courage.
"Take your clothes off," she said, knowing that she would never have managed the words in the light.
"Yes, ma'am."
There was rustling, then nothing, then the distinctive sound of a zipper being pulled down.
Her heart thundered in her chest. She tried to imagine him naked. What would he look like? Thinking about him naked made her imagine him standing in front of her--erect. And thinking about that made her think about him pushing inside of her. Filling her. Making her--
"Condom," she gasped.
A movement stopped.
"What?"
Phoebe felt the earth open up in preparation of swallowing her. How could she have not mentioned this before?
"I'm not on anything right now," she whispered. "Birth control. I'm not on the Pill." She gestured helplessly.
"Shit, fuck, damn."
Disappointment tied her in knots. "I was really only interested in that middle part," she joked.
There was a second of silence, followed by a low chuckle. "You're never predictable, Phoebe. I'll give you that. Cross your fingers."
"What?"
"Cross your fingers. I might have a condom in my shaving kit. ~ Susan Mallery

primicerius? He was young, it was ~ Donna Woolfolk Cross

I don't know whether we will find ourselves in the cross hairs, pulled by the short hairs, or just trying to find the next inane hairstyle. But change is coming; it is inevitable. It is as steady and reliable as a ticking clock. ~ Corey Taylor

The things she sees are uninteresting to her. Irrelevant. Until there's a clatter of wings. We both look up. There's a pigeon, a woodpigeon, sailing down to roost in a lime tree above us. Time slows. The air thickens and the hawk is transformed. It's as if all her weapons systems were suddenly engaged. Red cross-hairs. She stands on her toes and cranes her neck. This. This flightpath. This thing, she thinks. This is fascinating. Some part of the hawk's young brain has just worked something out, and it has everything to do with death. ~ Helen Macdonald

It hurts you," he said in realization.
"What does?" Julian asked.
"People being afraid of you. Maybe even ... Lovers being afraid of you?" Cameron asked softly. ~ Abigail Roux

The Cross is the central event in time and eternity, and the answer to all the problems of both. ~ Oswald Chambers

Magic existed in his eyes, his energy as he lived his daily life. I could fall into his soul and lay my worries to rest, but if by chance this happened; it wouldn't last the test.
because there's much to learn, before we can meet, I want to collide with his heart; allow our souls to fleet.
His arms will hold my fears, but he won't carry the load; as it is my lesson to love myself, and find my own sense of hope.
When we cross our paths, our knowledge will last the test; as patience fills the air and our burdens are put to rest,
I will honour my truth, and seek what I desire; ever lasting love and passion set on fire. ~ Nikki Rowe

I forgot to mention," Father Christopher said, smiling seraphically at Sir Martin, "that I am also a priest. So let me offer you a blessing." He pulled out a golden crucifix that had been hidden beneath his shirt and held it toward Lord Slayton's men. "May the peace and love of our Lord Jesus Christ," he said, "comfort and sustain you while you take your farting mouths and your turd-reeking presence out of our sight." He waved a sketchy cross toward the horsemen. "And thus farewell. ~ Bernard Cornwell

The night stayed outside. She was surprised. She opened her mouth but no sound came out. Instead, blue things flew in, pieces of glass or tin, or necklaces of blue diamond, perhaps. The air was the blue of a pool when there are shadows, when clouds cross the turquoise surface, when you suspect something contagious is leaking, something camouflaged and disrupted. There is only this infected blue enormity, elongating defiantly. The blue that knows you and where you live and it's never going to forget. ~ Kate Braverman

The web presents an opportunity to showcase any character your sick mind desires. Want to create a cross-dressing, deaf/mute, corrupt politician who has a soft spot for saving children? Go for it! ~ Issa Rae

He was waiting, I think, for me to cross that space and take him in my arms again - waiting, as one waits at a deathbed for the miracle one dare not disbelieve, which will not happen. ~ James Baldwin

Most humans know better than to cross a wizard. A cat does not care. ~ F.T. McKinstry

When I'm going to events, I like Armani because I think they do a cross between my relaxed rocky feel and a really smart elegant look really well. ~ Ruta Gedmintas

Star friendship. - We were friends and have become estranged. But this was right, and we do not want to conceal and obscure it from ourselves as if we had reason to feel ashamed. We are two ships each of which has its goal and course; our paths may cross and we may celebrate a feast together, as we did - and then the good ships rested so quietly in one harbor and one sunshine that it may have looked as if they had reached their goal and as if they had one goal. But then the almighty force of our tasks drove us apart again into different seas and sunny zones, and perhaps we shall never see one another again, - perhaps we shall meet again but fail to recognize each other: our exposure to different seas and suns has changed us! That we have to become estranged is the law above us: by the same token we should also become more venerable for each other! And thus the memory of our former friendship should become more sacred! There is probably a tremendous but invisible stellar orbit in which our very different ways and goals may be included as small parts of this path, - let us rise up to this thought! But our life is too short and our power of vision too small for us to be more than friends in the sense of this sublime possibility. - Let us then believe in our star friendship even if we should be compelled to be earth enemies. ~ Friedrich Nietzsche