Jess At Make And Do Crew Quotes

I do, and the now-familiar warmth of his lips steadies me. He tastes of salt and the wine we shared with the others at our small farewell party.
Aladdin pulls away first and lifts one of my hands to his lips, kissing the delicate henna patterns on my skin, then turning my arm over to kiss the inside of my wrist. The ship's crew makes themselves busy on the other side of the ship, giving us privacy.
"You're the most beautiful girl in the world," Aladdin murmurs. "Have I ever told you that?"
"Enough to make me wonder if your father was a parrot. ~ Jessica Khoury

She went downstairs to the library and wrote two letters. One was to her father, the other to Jess and Ronan. She folded them, stamped the wax seals with her seal ring, and put the writing materials away. She was holding the letters in one hand, the wax firm yet still warm against the skin, when she heard footsteps beating down the marble hall, coming closer.
Arin stepped inside the library and shut the door. "You won't do it," he said. "You won't duel him."
The sight of Arin shook her. She wouldn't be able to think straight if he continued to speak like that, to look at her like that. "You do not give me orders," Kestrel said. She moved to leave.
He blocked her path. "I know about the delivery. He sent you a death-price."
"First my dress, and now this? Arin, one would think you are monitoring everything I send and receive. It is none of your business."
He seized her by the shoulders. "You are so small."
Kestrel knew what he was doing, and hated it, hated him for reminding her of her physical weakness, of the same failure that her father witnessed whenever he watched her fight with Rax. "Let go."
"Make me let you go."
She looked at Arin. Whatever he saw in her eyes loosened his hands. "Kestrel," he said more quietly, "I have been whipped before. Lashes and death are different things."
"I won't die."
"Let Irex set my punishment."
"You're not listening to me." She would have said more, but realized that his hands still rest ~ Marie Rutkoski

Did you ever think much about jobs? I mean, some of the jobs people land in? You see a guy giving haircuts to dogs, or maybe going along the curb with a shovel, scooping up horse manure. And you think, now why is the silly bastard doing that? He looks fairly bright, about as bright as anyone else. Why the hell does he do that for living?
You kind grin and look down your nose at him. You think he's nuts, know what I mean, or he doesn't have any ambition. And then you take a good look at yourself, and you stop wondering about the other guy…

You've got all your hands and feet. Your health is okay, and you make a nice appearance, and ambition-man! You've got it. You're young, I guess: you'd call thirty young, and you're strong. You don't have much education, but you've got more than plenty of other people who go to the top. And yet with all that, with all you've had to do with this is as far you've got And something tellys you, you're not going much farther if any.

And there is nothing to be done about it now, of course, but you can't stop hoping. You can't stop wondering…

…Maybe you had too much ambition. Maybe that was the trouble. You couldn't see yourself spending forty years moving from office boy to president. So you signed on with a circulation crew; you worked the magazines from one coast to another. And then you ran across a little brush deal-it sounded nice, anyway. And you worked that until you found something better, something tha ~ Jim Thompson

Can you drive it?"

"No. I can't drive a stick at all. It's why I took Andy's car and not one of yours."

"Oh people, for goodness' sake...move over." Choo Co La Tah pushed past Jess to take the driver's seat.

Curious about that, she slid over to make room for the ancient.

Jess hesitated. "Do you know what you're doing?"

Choo Co La Tah gave him a withering glare. "Not at all. But I figured smoeone needed to learn and no on else was volunteering. Step in and get situated. Time is of the essence."

Abigail's heart pounded. "I hope he's joking about that." If not, it would be a very short trip. Ren changed into his crow form before he took flight. Jess and Sasha climbed in, then moved to the compartment behind the seat. A pall hung over all of them while Choo Co La Tah adjusted the seat and mirrors.

By all means, please take your time. Not like they were all about to die or anything...

She couldn't speak as she watched their enemies rapidly closing the distance between them. This was by far the scariest thing she'd seen. Unlike the wasps and scorpions, this horde could think and adapt.
They even had opposable thumbs.

Whole different ball game.

Choo Co La Tah shifted into gear. Or at least he tried. The truck made a fierce grinding sound that caused jess to screw his face up as it lurched violently and shook like a dog coming in from the rain.

"You ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

What would be the natural thing? A man goes to college. He works as he wants to work, he plays as he wants to play, he exercises for the fun of the game, he makes friends where he wants to make them, he is held in by no fear of criticism above, for the class ahead of him has nothing to do with his standing in his own class. Everything he does has the one vital quality: it is spontaneous. That is the flame of youth itself. Now, what really exists?"

"...I say our colleges to-day are business colleges - Yale more so, perhaps, because it is more sensitively American. Let's take up any side of our life here. Begin with athletics. What has become of the natural, spontaneous joy of contest? Instead you have one of the most perfectly organized business systems for achieving a required result - success. Football is driving, slavish work; there isn't one man in twenty who gets any real pleasure out of it. Professional baseball is not more rigorously disciplined and driven than our 'amateur' teams. Add the crew and the track. Play, the fun of the thing itself, doesn't exist; and why? Because we have made a business out of it all, and the college is scoured for material, just as drummers are sent out to bring in business.

"Take another case. A man has a knack at the banjo or guitar, or has a good voice. What is the spontaneous thing? To meet with other kindred spirits in informal gatherings in one another's rooms or at the fence, according to the whim of the moment. ~ Owen Johnson

I think we filmed a lot of the recording and it would be nice to do something with it but you know, videos are tricky because we know how to make albums but I'm not very good at video editing . ~ Jess Margera

How much do I love our family? This much. When any kind of emergency strikes, good or bad, we snap together like parts in a machine, like a submarine crew at war in the tin-can clutter of our home, none of the usual debate, character assassination, woeful monologues, and turgid hand-wringing. I've learned to love crises for this reason, how they make us pull together and forget our separateness and sadness; this was the second great gift of the moonfish. ~ Shaun Tan

Imagine then a fleet or a ship in which there is a captain who is taller and stronger than any of the crew, but he is a little deaf and has a similar infirmity in sight, and his knowledge of navigation is not much better. The sailors are quarrelling with one another about the steering --every one is of opinion that he has a right to steer, though he has never learned the art of navigation and cannot tell who taught him or when he learned, and will further assert that it cannot be taught, and they are ready to cut in pieces any one who says the contrary. They throng about the captain, begging and praying him to commit the helm to them; and if at any time they do not prevail, but others are preferred to them, they kill the others or throw them overboard, and having first chained up the noble captain's senses with drink or some narcotic drug, they mutiny and take possession of the ship and make free with the stores; thus, eating and drinking, they proceed on their voyage in such a manner as might be expected of them. Him who is their partisan and cleverly aids them in their plot for getting the ship out of the captain's hands into their own whether by force or persuasion, they compliment with the name of sailor, pilot, able seaman, and abuse the other sort of man, whom they call a good-for-nothing; but that the true pilot must pay attention to the year and seasons and sky and stars and winds, and whatever else belongs to his art, if he intends to be really qualified for the comm ~ Plato

No," she whispered. "No more."
His breath came hot and heavy against her ear as his arm crept back around her waist. "Why not?"
For a moment her mind was blank. What reason could she give that would make sense to him? If she protested that they weren't married, he would simply put an end to that objection by marrying her, and that would be disastrous.
Then she remembered Petey's plan. "Because I've already promised myself to another."
His body went still against hers. An oppressive silence fell over them both, punctuated only by the distant clanging of the watch bell. But he didn't move away, and at first she feared he hadn't heard her.
"I said - " she began.
"I heard you." He drew back, his face taught with suspicion. "What do you mean 'another?' Someone in England?"
She considered inventing a fiancé in London. But that would have no weight with him, would it? "Another sailor. I . . . I've agreed to marry one of your crew."
His expression hardened until it looked chiseled from the same oak that formed his formidable ship. "You're joking."
She shook her head furiously. "Peter Hargraves asked me to . . . to be his wife last night. And I agreed."
A stunned expression spread over his face before anger replaced it. Planting his hands on either side of her hips, he bent his head until his face was within inches from her. "He's not one of my crew. Is that why you accepted his proposal - because he's not one of my men? Or do you clai ~ Sabrina Jeffries

Miranda, there is nothing I would rather do that fuck you. She flinched at his bluntness and Ethan's frown darkened. Don't recoil from that word. It is exactly what I want. I don't want to make love to you like a gentleman. I want to pound into you. I want to tie you down and make you beg. I want to lick every inch of your body until you're so wet with need that I almost slide out of you on every damned stroke. ~ Jess Michaels

The morning grass was damp and cool with dew. My yellow rain slicker must have looked sharp contrasted against the bright green that spring provided. I must have looked like an early nineteenth century romantic poet (Walt Whitman, perhaps?) lounging around a meadow celebrating nature and the glory of my existence. But don't make this about me. Don't you dare. This was about something bigger than me (by at least 44 feet).

I was there to unselfishly throw myself in front of danger (nothing is scarier than a parked bulldozer), in the hopes of saving a tree, and also procuring a spot in a featured article in my local newspaper. It's not about celebrity for me, it's about showing that I care. It's not enough to just quietly go about caring anymore. No, now we need the world to see that we care. I was just trying to do my part to show I was doing my part.

But no journalists or TV news stations came to witness my selfless heroics. In fact, nobody came at all, not even Satan's henchmen (the construction crew). People might scoff and say, "But it was Sunday." Yes, it was Sunday. But if you're a hero you can't take a day off.

I'd rather be brave a day early than a day late. Most cowards show up late to their destiny. But I always show up early, and quite often I leave early too, but at least I have the guts to lay down my life for something I'd die for. Now I only laid down my life for a short fifteen-minute nap, but I can forever hold my chin high as I ~ Jarod Kintz

From Jess:
FANG.
I've commented your blog with my questions for THREE YEARS. You answer other people's STUPID questions but not MINE. YOU REALLY ASKED FOR IT, BUDDY. I'm just gonna comment with this until you answer at least one of my questions.

DO YOU HAVE A JAMAICAN ACCENT? No, Mon
DO YOU MOLT? Gross.
WHAT'S YOUR STAR SIGN? Dont know. "Angel what's my star sign?" She says Scorpio.
HAVE YOU TOLD JEB I LOVE HIM YET? No.
DOES NOT HAVING A POWER MAKE YOU ANGRY? Well, that's not really true...
DO YOU KNOW HOW TO DO THE SOULJA BOY? Can you see me doing the Soulja Boy?
DOES IGGY KNOW HOW TO DO THE SOULJA BOY? Gazzy does.
DO YOU USE HAIR PRODUCTS? No. Again,no.
DO YOU USE PRODUCTS ON YOUR FEATHERS? I don't know that they make bird kid feather products yet.
WHAT'S YOU FAVORITE MOVIE? There are a bunch
WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE SONG? I don't have favorites. They're too polarizing.
WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE SMELL? Max, when she showers.
DO THESE QUESTIONS MAKE YOU ANGRY? Not really.
IF I CAME UP TO YOU IN A STREET AND HUGGED YOU, WOULD YOU KILL ME? You might get kicked. But I'm used to people wanting me dead, so.
DO YOU SECRETLY WANT TO BE HUGGED? Doesn't everybody?
ARE YOU GOING EMO 'CAUSE ANGEL IS STEALING EVERYONE'S POWERS (INCLUDING YOURS)? Not the emo thing again.
WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE FOOD? Anything hot and delicious and brought to me by Iggy.
WHAT DID YOU HAVE FOR BREAKFAST THIS ~ James Patterson

And no matter how much the gray people in power despise knowledge, they can't do anything about historical objectivity; they can slow it down, but they can't stop it. Despising and fearing knowledge, they will nonetheless inevitably decide to promote it in order to survive. Sooner or later they will be forced to allow universities and scientific societies, to create research centers, observatories, and laboratories, and thus to create a cadre of people of thought and knowledge: people who are completely beyond their control, people with a completely different psychology and with completely different needs. And these people cannot exist and certainly cannot function in the former atmosphere of low self-interest, banal preoccupations, dull self-satisfaction, and purely carnal needs. They need a new atmosphere - an atmosphere of comprehensive and inclusive learning, permeated with creative tension; they need writers, artists, composers - and the gray people in power are forced to make this concession too. The obstinate ones will be swept aside by their more cunning opponents in the struggle for power, but those who make this concession are, inevitably and paradoxically, digging their own graves against their will. For fatal to the ignorant egoists and fanatics is the growth of a full range of culture in the people - from research in the natural sciences to the ability to marvel at great music. And then comes the associated process of the broad intellectualization of society: ~ Arkady Strugatsky

ROSE: You can't be nobody but who you are, Cory. That shadow wasn't nothing but you growing into yourself. You either got to grow into it or cut it down to fit you. But that's all you got to make life with. That's all you got to measure yourself against that world out there. Your daddy wanted you to everything he wasn't...and at the same time he tried to make you into everything he was. I don't know if he was right or wrong...but I do know he meant to do more good than he meant to do harm. He wasn't always right. Sometimes when he touched he bruised. And sometimes when he took me in his arms he cut. ~ August Wilson

I snapped my teeth at him making him retract his fingers to a safe distance away from my choppers. I grinned as I turned around and made a move to grab my duvet so I could shake it out and make my bed, only to find I couldn't because Storm was lying on top of it.

I didn't even hear him come in.

"Hello, my baby boy," I cooed.

Alec gasped from behind me. "How does he fucking do that?"

I smiled as I leaned over and scratched behind Storm's ears. "Because he is a cool dog."

"This is not funny, he doesn't make a fucking sound... it's not right, not right at all!"

I grinned. "I told you," I said as I turned around to face Alec again. "He is a ninja dog. ~ L.A. Casey

It's halftime. Both teams are in their locker room discussing what they can do to win this game in the second half.

It's halftime in America, too. People are out of work and they're hurting. And they're all wondering what they're going to do to make a comeback. And we're all scared, because this isn't a game.

The people of Detroit know a little something about this. They almost lost everything. But we all pulled together, now Motor City is fighting again.

I've seen a lot of tough eras, a lot of downturns in my life. And, times when we didn't understand each other. It seems like we've lost our heart at times. When the fog of division, discord, and blame made it hard to see what lies ahead.

But after those trials, we all rallied around what was right, and acted as one. Because that's what we do. We find a way through tough times, and if we can't find a way, then we'll make one.

All that matters now is what's ahead. How do we come from behind? How do we come together? And, how do we win?

Detroit's showing us it can be done. And, what's true about them is true about all of us.

This country can't be knocked out with one punch. We get right back up again and when we do the world is going to hear the roar of our engines.

Yeah, it's halftime America. And, our second half is about to begin. ~ Clint Eastwood

It was Kellanved – all of this. Him and Dancer. They used Tavore Paran from the very start. They used all of us, Hedge.'
'That's what gods do, aye. So you don't like it? Fine, but listen to me. Sometimes, what they want – what they need us to do – sometimes it's all right. I mean, it's the right thing to do. Sometimes, it makes us better people.'
'You really believe that?'
'And when we're better people, we make better gods.'
Fiddler looked away. 'It's hopeless, then. We can stuff a god with every virtue we got, it still won't make us any better, will it? Because we're not good with virtues, Hedge.'
'Most of the time, aye, we're not. But maybe then, at our worst, we might look up, we might see that god we made out of the best in us. Not vicious, not vengeful, not arrogant or spiteful. Not selfish, not greedy. Just clear-eyed, with no time for all our rubbish. The kind of god to give us a slap in the face for being such shits. ~ Steven Erikson

As Ian popped the lock and opened the car door, he turned to Phoebe. "Can you do me a favour?"
She immediately stepped toward him, fully embracing their new mature relationship. "Of course."
Ian looked pointedly over his own shoulder and said, "Tell me the truth. Does this car make my glowing ass look fat?"
She'd naturally followed the direction of his gaze, but now she looked up, hard, into his eyes. And she smiled back at him despite herself. She even laughed. "You're an idiot."
"When things get too serious, I get a rash."
She pointedly looked back down at his nether regions, despite the fact doing so made her blush. Still, she spoke coolly, dryly. "Not on your ass."
If Ian believed in love, that would've been it for him. Instantly. Enthrallingly. Eternally. Instead, he just laughed. "Thank God for that. See if there's anything remotely clothinglike in the backseat or the trunk. ~ Suzanne Brockmann

Life isn't so much that we are seeking God (whether earnestly, sporadically, desperately, or not at all), but rather that God is already here with a steady lamp in the dark, searching for us. Life isn't how we stumble about trying to do no harm while we make occasional, feeble lurches at loving one another. Life is what God is doing within us and among us, nonstop-and it's not a death march, it's a dance. Life is about hearing this music and getting in step. ~ Marilyn Lacey

It shouldn't make a difference to me, I suppose,but it does. I've grown to trust you, and I'd hate to think that I've been wrong about you."
"Well,it's real nice to hear you like me, Freckles," he teased. "I kind of like you,too." He wiggled his eyebrows as he had earlier.
Willow laughed and leaned over to swat at him but missed. "You know, I really don't have freckles. Why don't you call me Williw like everyone else does?"
"Maybe, because everyone else does." He shrugged. "Freckles is mine. My special name for you, that is. And you do have freckles, cute little ginger-colored freckles, all-l-l aross the bridge of your nose."
"I don't!" Her mouth twisted in annoyance.
"Tell you what, we'll race on it. You win-you don't have freckles. I win-you do have freckles."
Knowing her only chance to beat his big stallion was to get a head start, Willow didn't waste time agreeing to ny terms. She dug her heels into Sugar's sides and tore off across the desert.
"Hey!" Rider called, laughing and spurring Sultan into a run. "You're supposed to wait till I say go."
Her laugh drifted back on the wind.
"Come on,Sultan. Let's show Miss Freckle Britches who she's dealing with."
The spirited stallion's legs stretched out ith effortless grace, his body lowering in a ground-eating pace, and Willow's little mare was no match for the big stallion.
"See you back at the ranch, Freckles," Rider laughingly taunted as he rode past. ~ Charlotte McPherren

A man who leaves his wife is also a kind of immigrant. He rejects the home he's always known for another. Is it a surprise that Americans have the highest divorce rate in the world? If ditched lovers are also counted, then our rate of betrayal becomes truly stratospheric. To start over and advance or save ourselves, if only in our minds, we're willing to destroy everything. Soaked in a depthless, sampling culture, we're also expert at forgetting. Not only do we have no historical memory, but our personal past can be willfully and instantly erased, with hardly a ripple in its wake, and there's no one around, no community, to remind us of our shames. Extreme narcissists, we cling to bizarre narratives that allow us to make the most preposterous statements without flinching, or indulge in the most perverse and damaging behaviors. ~ Linh Dinh

The artist labors while he may, But finds at best too brief the day; And, tho' his works outlast the time And nation that they make sublime, He feels and sees that Nature knows Nothing of time in what she does, But has a leisure infinite Wherein to do her work aright. ~ Henry Abbey

but we dont want to die. do u know how hard it is to decide to sting sombody? it will hurt them really bad! and it will make us die! so on one wing, we will die. but on the other wing, the rest of us will not die. in the moment, we get scared and the only thing we can think of is protecting the ones we love. we dont want to die but if it means that it will make the rest of us not die, then we will do it. if i have to die, it will be worth it because i love the ones i love so much that i would do anything to protect them. if i have to die, it will be worth it because it means the ones i love will not. they will get to continue to live. to love. to be happy. to experience sadness. if i am not there, i will be at peace knowing that i was the reason they still are. ~ Jomny Sun

Every day, the New York Times carries a motto in a box on its front page. "All the News That's Fit to Print," it says. It's been saying it for decades, day in and day out. I imagine most readers of the canonical sheet have long ceased to notice this bannered and flaunted symbol of its mental furniture. I myself check every day to make sure that the bright, smug, pompous, idiotic claim is still there. Then I check to make sure that it still irritates me. If I can still exclaim, under my breath, why do they insult me and what do they take me for and what the hell is it supposed to mean unless it's as obviously complacent and conceited and censorious as it seems to be, then at least I know I still have a pulse. You may wish to choose a more rigorous mental workout but I credit this daily infusion of annoyance with extending my lifespan. ~ Christopher Hitchens

The phone went off. Private caller.
"Thank fuck," he said as he accepted it. "Payne - "
"No."
Manny closed his eyes: Her brother sounded like hell.
"Where is she."
"We don't know. And there's nothing that we can do from here - we're trapped inside."
The guy exhaled like he was smoking something.
"What the fuck happened before she left? I thought she'd be spending all night with you. It's cool if you two . . . you know . . . but why did she leave so early?"
"I told her it wasn't going to work out."
Long silence. "What the fuck are you thinking?"
Clearly if it hadn't been all bright and sunny outside, motherfucker would have been knocking on Manny's door, looking to kick some Italian ass.
"I thought that would make you happy."
"Oh, yeah. Abso - break my sister's fucking heart. I'm all for that."
Another sharp exhale, like he was blowing smoke.
"She's in love with you, asshole."
Didn't that stop him in his tracks. But he got back with the program.
"Listen, she and I . . ."
At that point, he was supposed to explain the stuff about the results of his physical and how he was all freaked out and didn't know what the repercussions were. But the trouble was, in the hours since Payne had taken off, he'd come to realize that however true that shit was, there was a more fundamental thing going on at the core of him:
He was being a little bitch.
What the go-away had really bee ~ J.R. Ward

If you work hard enough at something, it begins to make itself part of you, even though you do not really like it and know that part isn't real. ~ Qiu Xiaolong

Sad truth is. . . we all end up alone on some death bed. Yeah? No way to take anybody else's place and no way we can be lying on the same one."

I was at the edge of the white-wed cloth. My shoes filled with concrete, as did my head, looking at the empty shell of what was once a woman full of wonder.

"Any way to make someone feel not so alone?" she asked.

"The only thing anyone can ever do is help someone feel a little less lonely before they get there."

"How does someone do that?"

"Memories. Help create memories. Better ones. Ones to replace the old. ~ S.D. Lawendowski

I used to think no one should go into show biz, but now I feel differently. I now feel like it's a great career. If you can do it and make money at it and still not be so famous that you can have a normal life - then I think it's a great career. ~ Julia Sweeney

In sum, do not insult me with the beheadings, finger choppings or the lung-deflations you plan for my works. I need my head to shake or nod, my hand to wave or make into a fist, my lungs to shout or whisper with. I will not go gently onto a shelf, degutted, to become a non-book.
All you umpires, back to the bleachers. Referees, hit the showers. It's my game. I pitch, I hit, I catch. I run the bases. At sunset I've won or lost. At sunrise, I'm out again, giving it the old try.
And no one can help me. Not even you. ~ Ray Bradbury

Caleb came to his mother's side and helped her to her feet. "Besides, if you rest, then I am free to make love to Jacqueline."
"Caleb!" Jacqueline had been worried she would say the wrong thing. Instead, Caleb had put his foot in it.
But obviously all the cliches she'd ever heard about Italian sons were true. He really could do no wrong, for Mrs. D'Angelo shook her finger at him
but she said indulgently, "You are incorrigible."
"Ma, I'm just trying to get going on those grandchildren you want. ~ Christina Dodd

Almost every way we make electricity today, except for the emerging renewables and nuclear, puts out CO2. And so, what we're going to have to do at a global scale, is create a new system. And so, we need energy miracles. ~ Bill Gates

I also like to take my glasses off and look at people. The faces around me, all of them, seem kind and pretty and smiling. What's more, when my glasses are off, I don't ever think about arguing with anyone at all, nor do I feel the need to make snide remarks. All I do is just blankly stare in silence. ~ Osamu Dazai

The bigotry is so virulent that it may be time to make Christians a protected class. Right now 'Christo-phobia' and 'Biblo-phobia' are at such a fever pitch among leftists and homosexual activists, and they need to be stopped before they get carried away in their zeal and do bodily harm to someone. Once again we must remind them our Constitution says, 'freedom of religion' and not 'freedom from religion.' ~ E.W. Jackson