Game Boy Advance Quotes

I understood it," the boy said. "It was a game, wasn't it? Do grown men always have to play games? Does everything have to be an excuse for another kind of game? Do any men grow up or do they only come of age?"
"You don't know everything," the gunslinger said, trying to hold his slow anger.
"No. But I know what I am to you."
"And what is that?" The gunslinger asked tightly.
"A poker chip. ~ Stephen King

The feel of arms around me, in comfort rather than as restraint or in harmful intent, undoes me. I cry for all the years of mocking and teasing received at the hands of my peers, for having been born to hateful, careless parents. I cry for the fact that this one good, kind boy has joined the game. And That makes me think it's hopeless to find any goon in anyone, which only makes me cry harder. ~ Cindy C. Bennett

I'm a B-boy at heart. I still like rhyming. It's just the radio game is like Chinese arithmetic. It's hard to know what nuts to crack. But I still love music, been dropping music. Never stopped, really. ~ Ice Cube

My boy! Smoking is one of the greatest and cheapest enjoyments in life, and if you decide in advance not to smoke, i can only feel sorry for you. ~ Sigmund Freud

And in that moment he felt- for the first time that optimistic and cheerful boy allowed himself to feel- how badly made life was, how flawed. No matter how richly furnished you made it, with all the noise and variet of Something, Nothing always found a way in, seeped through the cracks and patches. Mr. Feld was right; life was like baseball, filled with loss and error, with bad hops and wild pitches, a game in which even champions lost almost as often as they won and even the best hitters were put out 70 percent of the time ~ Michael Chabon

In chess the most unbelievable thing for me is that it's a game for everybody: rich, poor, girl, boy, old, young. It's a fantastic game which can unite people and generations! It's a language which you'll find people "speak" in every country. If you reach a certain level you find a very rich world! Art, sport, logic, psychology, a battlefield, imagination, creativity not only in practical games but don't forget either how amazing a feeling it is to compose a study, for example (unfortunately that's not appreciated these days but it's a fantastic part of chess!). ~ Judit Polgar

The trick to realize that the boys who talk so much about being rejected that it seems like the're proud of it aren't necessarily sweeter or more sensitive than the Bababooey-spouting frat bullies who line up at clubs like SkyBar to run game on girls they want to date rape. There are plenty of nerds who fear women and aren't sensitive, despite their marketing; they just dislike women in a new, exciting way. Timid racists aren't sensitive because they lock their car doors when they see a black person on the street. They're just too scared to get out of the car and shout the "N" word.

Fear can be the result of admiration, or it can be a symptom of contempt. When I see squeamish guys passing over qualified women when they're hiring for a job, or becoming tongue tied when a girl crashes their all-boy conversation at a party, I don't give them credit for being awestruck. They're reacting to the intimidating female as an intruder, an alien, and somebody they can't relate to. It's not a compliment to be made invisible. ~ Julie Klausner

To my mind the boy who gives least promise is one in whom the critical faculty develops in advance of the imagination. ~ Quintilian

During this pep rally, the cheerleaders would call two members of each class, one boy, one girl, to come down and take part in some embarrassing game--a relay race, or water balloon toss, or singing competition--all in the name of school spirit. Invariably, I was the seventh-grade boy called down. I suspected that this is because the head cheerleader was Rob Cantrell's girlfriend.

No misery I feel as an adult can match what I felt as I carefully stepped my way between the kids down the bleachers to the floor. The high school kids called my name, again and again, in falsetto, "Ves! Vessy!" and made kissing noises. Then I tried to run like a boy in the relay race, or sing whatever stupid song I was forced to sing in a voice quiet and masculine.

[...]

The next year the torture continued, but in a different way. It was less creative, a simple "Fag," as I passed the boys in the hall. What could they do? I didn't give them material anymore. I had swallowed my voice, and my walk was utterly nondescript. ~ Todd Pozycki

Two of my boys are Manchester United fans; one is an Arsenal fan. Whenever there is a game I can take the boys to, I love taking them. ~ David Beckham

Stop making a fool of yourself--and stop bowing to me, stars above," Jax added exasperatedly, and waited for Robb to stand again. "I'm not worth THAT must groveling."
"But you are."
Jax sighed, and held out his hand. "Come on--Di and Ana are waiting."
Robb hesitated. "Well? Don't you want to take a dashing boy's hand?" Oh--oh did he.
And he wanted to win a Wicked Luck game against this dashing boy. And he wanted to know why he had left his home, what his favorite color was, what food he liked best--what FLAVOR.
Robb wanted to know him as intimately as a sailor knew the stars. ~ Ashley Poston

While I was looking into Olivia's mad eyes and dreaming, my son left his game and his place by the fire. I didn't even notice as he went toward what I had thought was a bundle of rags. I didn't notice as he turned it over and drew back the blanket, lifted it carefully in his small arms.
I only noticed when he spoke.
"Look, Daddy!"
Then, too late, I turned around. I did not know what I was seeing, but even then I felt a sudden lurch of shock and dread. I felt as if I had looked away at a crucial moment and my child had fallen into the fire and been burned horribly.
I saw my son, my Alan, my darling boy, and in his arms a creature with staring, terrible black eyes. Something that had not stirred or cried out even when Olivia threw it on the floor.
"Daddy," Alan said, glowing. "It's a baby. ~ Sarah Rees Brennan

Any player coming to Spurs whether he's a big signing or just a ground staff boy must be dedicated to the game and to the club. He must be prepared to work at his game. He must never be satisfied with his last performance, and he must hate losing. ~ Bill Nichols

Dhoni Is My Hero. We talk a lot about Sachin Tendulkar, Virender Sehwag, But this boy has as much talent as anyone in the game ~ Kapil Dev

Next morning, his nose still in the dreambag of a deep pillow contributed to his otherwise austere bed by sweet Blanche (with whom, by the parlour-game rules of sleep, he had been holding hands in a heart-breaking nightmare– or perhaps it was just her cheap perfume), the boy was at once aware of the happiness knocking to be let in. He deliberately endeavored to prolong the glow of its incognito by dwelling on the last vestiges of jasmine and tears in a silly dream... ~ Vladimir Nabokov

Did you really think we want those laws observed?" said Dr. Ferris. "We want them to be broken. You'd better get it straight that it's not a bunch of boy scouts you're up against... We're after power and we mean it... There's no way to rule innocent men. The only power any government has is the power to crack down on criminals. Well, when there aren't enough criminals one makes them. One declares so many things to be a crime that it becomes impossible for men to live without breaking laws. Who wants a nation of law-abiding citizens? What's there in that for anyone? But just pass the kind of laws that can neither be observed nor enforced or objectively interpreted – and you create a nation of law-breakers – and then you cash in on guilt. Now that's the system, Mr. Reardon, that's the game, and once you understand it, you'll be much easier to deal with. ~ Ayn Rand

When I was a boy, playing at the beach, I remember a game I loved, which was an omen of my future life. I would dig a channel with high sides in the sand for the sea to fill. But when the water flooded the path I created for it with such violence that it destroyed everything in its way: my castles made of pebbles, my dikes of sand. It swept away everything, destroying it all, then disappeared, leaving me with a heavy heart, yet not daring to ask for pity, since the sea had only responded to my call. It's the same with love. You call out for it, you plan its course. The wave crashes into your heart, but it's so different from how you imagined it, so bitter and icy. ~ Irene Nemirovsky

What about you, pretty boy? You gonna stand there and let your girlfriend do all the work?"

"What?" Watch my seriously hot woman put you on your fat ass and look sexy while she's doing it? Oh, yeah, I'm definitely game for that. ~ Nalini Singh

When you're younger you want the boy who knows how to play the game but when you're older you want the man who knows when it's not a game anymore. ~ Christina Lauren

I think that the only real way to tell if a boy like likes you is to be direct. None of this game-playing, that's juvenile. Instead, even though it might be scary, the thing to do is to just march up and ask one of your friends to ask someone else to ask one of his friends what he thinks about you. ~ Lisa Yee

So Kole how do you do it? I mean seriously Lexi sounded like she was having a constant orgasm. I need to set you down with Radley…his game is slipping a bit." I about choked on my own spit, "Oh f$$k no…conversation over. I am not ragging on my boy. I'm out of here." I slid out from under Lexi and left her with Megan, sitting on my bed to go look for Radley. I heard them laughing uncontrollably as I walked down the hallway.

"Radley…where the f$$k are you man? Your girl needs your help," I hollered as I came down the stairs. He was on the couch watching the football game, "Where is she…she disappeared on me?" I flopped down next to him. "She's upstairs with Lex talking about your lack of sexual abilities." He laughed, "F$$k…Whatever. ~ C.A. Harms

Damn your eyes, Justin Blade; you've the luck of the devil."
"Sore losers, those MacGregors," Shelby sighed, sliding her gaze to Alan's.
"We'll see if the Campbells can do any better.New blood," Alan announced from the doorway.
Smoke hung in the air,the rich, fragrant sting of expensive tobacco. They were using Daniel's huge old desk as a table, with chairs pulled up to it. The three men looked over as Shelby and Serena walked in.
"I don't like taking my wife's money," Justin commented,sending her a grin as he clamped a cigar between his teeth.
"You won't have the opportunity of trying." Serena lowered herself to the arm of his chair with a quiet sigh. "Shelby'd like a game or two."
"A Campbell!" Daniel rubbed his hands together. "Aye then,we'll see how the wind blows now.Have a chair,lass. Three raise, ten-dollar limit, jacks or better to open."
"If you think you're going to make up your losses on me, MacGregor," Shelby said mildly as she took her seat, "you're mistaken."
Daniel made a sound of appreciation. "Deal the cards, boy," he ordered Caine. "Deal the cards. ~ Nora Roberts

There is only one sin and it is: weakness. When I was a boy, I read Milton's Paradise Lost. The only good man I had any respect for was Satan. The only saint is that person who never weakens, faces everything, and determines die game. ~ Swami Vivekananda

When you get to play with the big boys, your game improves drastically. ~ Ajay Naidu

Camped somewhere deep in an impenetrable crag of the immense Powder River Country during the late autumn of 1856, more than likely in the shadow of the sacred Black Hills, one imagines the thirty-five-year-old Red Cloud stepping from his tepee to listen to the bugle of a bull elk in its seasonal rut. Around him women haul water from a crystalline stream as cottonwood smoke rises from scores of cook fires and coils toward a sky the color of brushed aluminum. The wind sighs, and a smile creases his face as he observes a pack of mounted teenagers collect wagers in preparation for the Moccasin Game, or perhaps a rough round of Shinny. His gaze follows the grace and dexterity of one boy in particular, a slender sixteen-year-old with lupine eyes. The boy is Crazy Horse, and the war leader of the Bad Faces makes a mental not to keep tabs on this one. ~ Bob Drury

Play the game, but don't believe in it – that much you owe yourself … Play the game, but raise the ante, my boy. Learn how it operates, learn how you operate. ~ Ralph Ellison

A good professional athlete must have the love of a little boy. And the good players feel the kind of love for the game that they did when they were Little Leaguers. ~ Tom Seaver

Game Boy is something that I would like to make something for. ~ Nobuo Uematsu

I think a hero is an ordinary individual who finds the strength to persevere and endure in spite of overwhelming obstacles. The fifteen-year-old boy who landed on his head while wrestling with his brother, leaving him paralyzed and barely able to swallow or speak. Travis Roy, paralyzed in the first eleven seconds of a hockey game in his freshman year at college. Harry Steifel, paralyzed from the chest down in a car accident at seventeen, completing his education and working on Wall Street at age thirty-two, but having missed so much of what life has to offer. These are the real heroes, and so are the many families and friends who have stood by them. ~ Christopher Reeve

Will,
Thank you for taking on the role of father to my little boy.
Thank you for loving my daughter as much as I love her.
But most of all, thank you in advance for being the best father I could ever hope for a grandchild of mine to have. Because I know without a doubt that you will be.
Congratulations,
Julia ~ Colleen Hoover

Henry successfully kept his mind on the game, which might seem strange for a boy who slept beside a wall of magic. But baseball was as magical to him as a green, mossy mountain covered in ancient trees. What's more, baseball was a magic he could run around in and laugh about. While the magic of the cupboards was not necessarily good, the smell of leather mixed with dusty sweat and spitting and running through sparse grass after a small ball couldn't be anything else. ~ N.D. Wilson

To be Kaspar Hauser is to long, at every moment of your dubious existence, with every fiber of your questionable being, not to be Kaspar Hauser. It's to long to leave yourself completely behind, to vanish from your own sight. Does this surprise you? It is of course what you have taught me to desire. And I am a diligent student. With your help I have furnished myself inside and out. My thoughts are yours. These words are yours. Even my black and bitter tears are yours, for I shed them at the thought of the life I never had, which is to say, your life, ladies and gentlemen of Nuremberg. My deepest wish is not to be an exception. My deepest wish is not to be a curiosity, an object of wonder. It is to be unremarkable. To become you - to sink into you - to merge with you until you cannot tell me from yourselves; to be uninteresting; to be nothing at all; to experience the ecstasy of mediocrity - is it so much to ask? You who have helped me to advance so far, won't you lead me to the promised land, the tranquil land of the ordinary, the banal, the boring? Not to be Kaspar Hauser, not to be the enigma of Europe, not to be the wild boy in the tower, the man without a childhood, the young man without a youth, the monster born in the middle of his life, but to be you, to be you, to be nothing but you! This is my vision of paradise. And although the very existence of such a vision reveals nothing so much as my distance, which widens into an abyss even as I try to fling myself across, st ~ Steven Millhauser

If Titus raped a little girl who happened to be a Red, how would you feel?"

She doesn't know how to answer. The Law does. Nothing would happen. It isn't rape unless she wears the sigil of an elder House like Augustus. Even then, the crime is against her master.

"Now look around," I say quietly. "There are no Golds here. I'm a Red. You're a Red. We are all Reds till one of us gets enough power. Then we get rights. Then we make our own law." I lean back and raise my voice. "That is the point of all this. To make you terrified of a world where you do not rule. Security and justice aren't given. They are made by the strong."

"You should hope that is not true," Mustang says quietly to me.

"Why?"

"Because there is a boy here like you." Her face takes on a gloomy aspect, as though she regrets what she must say. "My Proctor calls him the Jackal. He is smarter and crueler and stronger than you, and he will win this game and make us his slaves if the rest of us go about acting like animals." Her eyes implore me. "So please, hurry up and evolve. ~ Pierce Brown

Children's games constitute the most admirable social institutions. The game of marbles, for instance, as played by boys, contains an extremely complex system of rules - that is to say, a code of laws, a jurisprudence of its own. ~ Jean Piaget