Kingsley Edge Quotes

Don't even think about it." Søren said as Kingsley pulled his coat and gloves off.
"I'm always thinking about it." Kingsley said. "I brought the lube."
"Kingsley, it's not even five in the morning yet."
"You beat me this early before."
"I was attempting to wake you up."
"With your alarm cock? ~ Tiffany Reisz

You're much more beautiful now than you were back in school, and you were tres jolie back in your school days. No wonder Professor Easton deflowered you on his desk. Although had it been me, it would have been the desk, the floor, the wall, back on the desk but from behind ... ~ Tiffany Reisz

I think his accent got me pregnant," Maxine said. "I think I passed out. I need mouth to mouth. Kingsley's mouth," Katie said. "I think I need a trip to Manhattan," Jessika said. "And birth control. Lots of birth control." "I think you all need to go jump in the pond," Nora said. ~ Tiffany Reisz

She'll be in a better mood once we're done with her. ~ Tiffany Reisz

Love versus love. King, you're comparing infinities. There is no 'more.' That's not how love works. If it's love, it's infinite. You can't count it. ~ Tiffany Reisz

I'd rather see you dead than let him touch you the way he touches me. ~ Tiffany Reisz

He has to play hard to get hard, I know that. I'm okay with that. More than okay. ~ Tiffany Reisz

Every night, my love. All nights are yours. ~ Tiffany Reisz

Don't make me laugh. You begged for it. Night after night, you begged for it."
"Of course I did. Pain is the only way you know how to show love."
"It's not the only way I know how to show love. It's the only way I chose to with you. ~ Tiffany Reisz

You do realize Kingsley is forty-five, yes?" "I told them," Nora said. "Age is only a number," Angie said. "So is sixty-nine," Maxine said. ~ Tiffany Reisz

This is us. This is the edge of danger. This is a love that has changed everything for everyone. ~ Karina Halle

You spend all your time worrying about losing your edge or getting dumped or whatever and you're never for a scond grateful. ~ John Green

One possible solution to the grandfather paradox is the theory of multiverse originally set forth by Hugh Everett. According to multiverse theory, every version of our past and future histories exists, just in an alternate universe.

For every event at the quantum level, the current universe splits into multiple universes. This means that for every choice you make, an infinite number of universes exist in which you made a different choice.

The theory neatly solves the grandfather paradox by posting separate universes in which each possible outcome exists, thereby avoiding a paradox.

In this way we get to live multiple lives.

There is, for example, a universe where Samuel Kingsley does not derail his daughter's life. A universe where he does derail it but Natasha is able to fix it. A universe where he does derail it and she is not able to fix it. Natasha is not quite sure which universe she's living in now. ~ Nicola Yoon

For instance, we need to look with our eyes to laugh," he said, "because only when we look at things can we catch the funny edge of the world. On the other hand, when our eyes see, everything is so equal that nothing is funny. ~ Carlos Castaneda

I remember when we found the first population of living Cerion agassizi in central Eleuthera. Our hypothesis of Cerion's general pattern required that two predictions be affirmed (or else we were in trouble): this population must disappear by hybridization with mottled shells toward bank-interior coasts and with ribby snails toward the bank-edge. We hiked west toward the bank-interior and easily found hybrids right on the verge of the airport road. We then moved east toward the bank-edge along a disused road with vegetation rising to five feet in the center between the tire paths. We should have found our hybrids but we did not. The Cerion agassizi simply stopped about two hundred yards north of our first ribby Cerion. Then we realized that a pond lay just to our east and that ribby forms, with their coastal preferences, might not favor the western side of the pond. We forded the pond and found a classic hybrid zone between Cerion agassizi and ribby Cerions. (Ribby Cerion had just managed to round the south end of the pond, but had not moved sufficiently north along the west side to establish contact with C. agassizi populations.) I wanted to shout for joy. Then I thought, "But who can I tell; who cares?" And I answered myself, "I don't have to tell anyone. We have just seen and understood something that no one has ever seen and understood before. What more does a man need? ~ Stephen Jay Gould

The mind is the cutting edge of the evolving event system. ~ Terence McKenna

At the edge of heaven, tatters of autumn
Cloud. After ten thousand miles of clear
Lovely morning, the west wind arrives. Here,
Long rains haven't slowed farmers. Frontier
Willows air thin kingfisher colors, and
Red fruit flecks mountain pears. As a flute's
Mongol song drifts from a tower, one
Goose climbs clear through vacant skies. ~ Du Fu

No more kings. Vimes had difficulty in articulating why this should be so, why the concept resonated in his very bones. After all, a good many of the patricians had been as bad as any king. But they were ... sort of ... bad on equal terms. What set Vimes's teeth on edge was the idea that kings were a different kind of human being. A higher lifeform. Somehow magical. ~ Terry Pratchett

He heard a soft voice calling him and turned towards it, trying to focus the vision before him. It wasn't his mother. If he weren't so tired, he would have smiled. He hadn't expected to find an angel in Hell.
The angel, her image blurred, a whiteness surrounding her, would understand. The angel would know.
"Why couldn't she love me?" he asked. The angel's answer was garbled. He strained to understand the words, not all his senses failed him as he slipped back into the abyss on the edge of Hell.
And the angel knelt down beside the bed and wept. ~ Lorraine Heath

I feel to that the gap between my new life in New York and the situation at home in Africa is stretching into a gulf, as Zimbabwe spirals downwards into a violent dictatorship. My head bulges with the effort to contain both worlds. When I am back in New York, Africa immediately seems fantastical – a wildly plumaged bird, as exotic as it is unlikely.

Most of us struggle in life to maintain the illusion of control, but in Africa that illusion is almost impossible to maintain. I always have the sense there that there is no equilibrium, that everything perpetually teeters on the brink of some dramatic change, that society constantly stands poised for some spasm, some tsunami in which you can do nothing but hope to bob up to the surface and not be sucked out into a dark and hungry sea. The origin of my permanent sense of unease, my general foreboding, is probably the fact that I have lived through just such change, such a sudden and violent upending of value systems.

In my part of Africa, death is never far away. With more Zimbabweans dying in their early thirties now, mortality has a seat at every table. The urgent, tugging winds themselves seem to whisper the message, memento mori, you too shall die. In Africa, you do not view death from the auditorium of life, as a spectator, but from the edge of the stage, waiting only for your cue. You feel perishable, temporary, transient. You feel mortal.

Maybe that is why you seem to live more vividly in A ~ Peter Godwin

I was dancing on the edge of something new, though maybe not completely new, if I had to be honest with myself, and I wasn't sure what I would do if I fell, if falling was an option, if falling was something I was actually meant to do all along. ~ Cary Attwell

All her life she had believed in something more, in the mystery that shape-shifted at the edge of her senses. It was the flutter of moth wings on glass and the promise of river nymphs in the dappled creek beds. It was the smell of oak trees on the summer evening she fell in love, and the way dawn threw itself across the cow pond and turned the water to light. ~ Eowyn Ivey

The park is high. And as out of a house
I step out of its glimmering half-light
into openness and evening. Into the wind,
the same wind that the clouds feel,
the bright rivers and the turning mills
that stand slowly grinding at the sky's edge.
Now I too am a thing held in its hand,
the smallest thing under the sky. --Look:

Is that one sky?:
Blissfully lucid blue,
into which ever purer clouds throng,
and under it all white in endless changes,
and over it that huge, thin-spun gray,
pulsing warmly as on red underpaint,
and over everything this silent radiance
of a setting sun.

Miraculous structure,
moved within itself and upheld by itself,
shaping figures, giant wings, faults
and high mountain ridges before the first star
and suddenly, there: a gate into such
distances as perhaps only birds know... ~ Rainer Maria Rilke

Sometimes you have to get close to the edge to remind yourself what life's about. It's not just about rules or what's on TV tonight. It's about taking a second to look up and admire the universe. - Katarina Kozlov ~ Dannika Dark

the air veined with balancings
in the rootless spaces where endless
worlds are formed and dissolve

snow duvet dancing in the night
beating in the heart's ear
of a language so close to being here -

memory of snow on the skin
melted flakes of past images
edgeless night on the edge of memory

clouds assemble and dilate
the straw thrown into the light
bright plovers turning under the wind

I listen again to what ear throat
fingers and brain extract in a moment
from the endless flowing stream of things

a water that transports friable words
which we pass from hand to hand
from mouth to ear, bits of mourning and clarity -

low voices and the footsteps become clear
the embers of a life roll on without brakes
red of a morning, of another sunset

in the gorges, on the broken stonefields
someone within me listens relentlessly
to the inaudible beating in things.

from " Nuits ~ Lorand Gaspar

To touch a person ... to sleep with a person ... is to become a pioneer," she whispered then, "a frontiersman at the edge of their private world, the strange, incomprehensible world of their interior, filled with customs you could never imitate, a language which sounds like your own but is really totally foreign, knowable only to them. ~ Catherynne M Valente

When starting to think about any novel, part of the motive is: I'm going to show them, this time. ~ Kingsley Amis

You were great tonight, helping with Candice's wound and the funeral ceremony for Chaz ... such as it was."
"I only did what needed doing, and as for your friend's funeral, it was a beautiful good-bye you all gave him," she murmured. "Simple but pure. You honored him well, Kellan."
The phrase she used - one reserved for the solemnest occasions in Breed traditions - touched him in a way he couldn't express. Instead, he tipped her chin up on the edge of his hand and kissed her. Not the hungered kind of kiss that they'd been sharing each time they'd connected since her arrival back in his life a few days ago but a kiss shaped by tender caring and gratitude, by profound respect ... and, yes, love.
He loved this woman.
His woman. ~ Lara Adrian

I do not want any guys to hit on me. Innocent flirting, fine
it does wonders for my confidence
but not douchebags. ~ J.A. Redmerski

I've been living on the edge for so long, my friends call me Cliff ~ Benny Bellamacina

What if we fan the
flames of Delight
while we get to play
in the dappled sunlight
at the edge of time? ~ Julia Ostara

When you find yourself on the edge and see nothing but darkness ahead of you and fear meeting you head on faith is knowing one of two things will happen ... you will either let your fear consume you or push through and soar like an eagle. ~ Cynthia Roberts

The very last drop of rain perched on the edge of her navel - the last bead of sweat balanced on the feather of her eyelash -

the last long-wet of my kiss on her skin -
all these demand more, more, more -
more wet, more wet -

yearning for more rain, fire, desire, moisture - and the cool chill of crystal-water, thirst, saliva, longing, rain. ~ Sudeep Sen

At her feet, a luminous path lit the way through the grassy field. It was made entirely from glow sticks; each of the radiant lights had been painstakingly set into the ground at perfect intervals, tracing a curved trail that shone through the darkness.
Apparently, Jay had been busy.
Near the water's edge, at the end of the iridescent pathway and beneath a stand of trees, Jay had set up more than just a picnic. He had created a retreat, an oasis for the two of them.
Violet shook her head, unable to find the words to speak.
He led her closer, and Violet followed, amazed.
Jay had hung more of the luminous glow sticks from the low-hanging branches, so they dangled overhead. They drifted and swayed in the breeze that blew up from the lake.
Beneath the natural canopy of limbs, he had set up two folding lounge chairs and covered them with pillows and blankets.
"I'd planned to use candles, but the wind would've blown 'em out, so I had to improvise."
"Seriously, Jay? This is amazing." Violet felt awed. She couldn't imagine how long it must have taken him.
"I'm glad you like it."
He led her to one of the chairs and drew her down until she was sitting before he started unpacking the cooler.
She half-expected him to pull out a jar of Beluga caviar, some fancy French cheeses, and Dom Perignon champagne. Maybe even a cluster of grapes to feed to her…one at a time. So when he started laying out their picnic, Violet laughed.
Instea ~ Kimberly Derting

I miss you with the very edge of my skin.
It winces in absence,
a giant muscle contracting. ~ Valentina Cano

The road to overcoming your fears could lead you to unbearable places but sometimes such gives you an edge than nothing else could give. ~ Auliq Ice

I was the family alien. Both my parents are quite creative, but I was ... appalling ... always putting on little shows. I was rather a shy child, not a natural performer, but there was a performative edge to everything I did. ~ Laura Wade

I remember one of my tutors saying, 'Always when on a long march assume the attitude you feel most inclined to, as it is less tiring. ~ Mary Henrietta Kingsley

Our trees
were nuns at the edge of our plans, praying for us ~ Sue Goyette

There is no prize in sales for second place. It's win or nothing. The masters know this and strive for - they fight for - that winning edge. ~ Jeffrey Gitomer

Grab me, kiss me, waltz me, and love me,
I adore thee cherish thee absolutely love thee,
Come let's take to the floor 'Neath a chandelier of stars from above,
And dance me slowly to the edge of love. ~ Michelle Geaney

Kingsley Lake, or "Silver Dollar Lake," is almost a perfect circle, spanning nearly two thousand acres with a surprising depth of ninety feet. The reason for the popular lake's unique shape and depth? It is one of Florida's many sinkholes. ~ Cary McNeal

Today social justice represents one of the most serious challenges to the conscience of the world. The abyss between those who are within the world 'order' and those who are excluded is widening day by day. The use of leading-edge technologies has made it possible to accumulate wealth in a way that is fantastic but perverse because it is unjustly distributed. Twenty-percent of humankind control eighty percent of all means of life. That fact creates a dangerous imbalance in the movement of history. ~ Leonardo Boff

We pick up our shots and for the first time there's a total absence of sound in the room. From the ceiling, shy silver things blink and wait. Dennis doesn't sit, but hovers at the edge of the table, leaning in with a darkroom perfected slump. His hair hangs like its edges were dipped in lead. Thin spears pointing to the table. I'm looking at his face; we're both serious in a self-aware way, pretending not to notice.

"It doesn't even feel like I left. God, you look fucking terrible. But it's a terrible face that drinks tequila well. Down. And cheers."

We force a dull clash of cups and pour everything down at once. The hard tequila shudders that never happen in the movies. First your head feels light, then it starts receiving the distress signals from throat, lungs, belly. Your shoulders jerk to shake off the snake that wrapped around you and squeezed. It burns. The good burn. ~ Laurie Perez

For stories teach us, that liberty sought out of season, in a corrupt and degenerate age, brought Rome itself to a farther slavery: for liberty hath a sharp and double edge, fit only to be handled by just and virtuous men; to bad and dissolute, it becomes a mischief unwieldy in their own hands: neither is it completely given, but by them who have the happy skill to know what is grievance and unjust to a people, and how to remove it wisely; what good laws are wanting, and how to frame them substantially, that good men may enjoy the freedom which they merit, and the bad the curb which they need. ~ John Milton

The best compliment was Ben Kingsley coming up to me, putting his hand on the back of my neck, and saying, "Good job, son.". ~ Aaron Stanford

The only thing I'd understand right from the very beginning was that our love was supported by loneliness. That neither one of us could haul ourselves up out of the deadly numbness we felt when we lay together, so silent, in darkness so isolating it seemed to shine. This was the edge of night. ~ Banana Yoshimoto

What was that?" he asked. He didn't stop thrusting. He went right on rocking over every tender, pulsating inch of me.
"An orgasm," I said into the blankets. "Surely you've encountered more than your own, commando."
"If that was an orgasm, it was a pathetic one," he said, his arm snaking around my waist and hiking me up.
I looked over my shoulder at Will, horrified. "Did you just insult my orgasm?"
"Yes," he said, nodding. "Now get your little ass over here. You can do better."
Of course this asshole wasn't finished. "And what are you getting out of this?"
He bent me over the edge of the bed, my feet not even touching the ground as he moved in me. "If you have to ask," he grunted, "you've been doing it wrong. ~ Kate Canterbary

We're at the top of the cliff and we can either fall off the edge or keep climbing. ~ Gary Neville

George paused just beyond the sawhorses at the edge of a deep ravine that had been cut through the tar surface of Witcham Street. This ~ Stephen King

Alice haunted the mossy edge of the woods, lingering in patches of shade. She was waiting to hear his Austin-Healey throttle back when he careened down the utility road separating the state park from the cabins rimming the lake, but only the whistled conversation of buntings echoed in the branches above. The vibrant blue males darted deeper into the trees when she blew her own 'sweet-sweet chew-chew sweet-sweet' up to theirs. Pine seedlings brushed against her pants as she pushed through the understory, their green heads vivid beneath the canopy. She had dressed to fade into the forest; her hair was bundled up under a long-billed cap, her clothes drab and inconspicuous. When at last she heard his car, she crouched behind a clump of birch and made herself as small as possible, settling into a shallow depression of ferns and leaf litter. ~ Tracy Guzeman

I griped about it at lunch one day to Bill Weist and Dr. Leslie Squier, our visiting psychologists from Reed College. I'd been trying to train one otter to stand on a box, I told them. No problem getting the behavior; as soon as I put the box in the enclosure, the otter rushed over and climbed on top of it. She quickly understood that getting on the box earned her a bite of fish, But. As soon as she got the picture, she began testing the parameters. 'Would you like me lying down on the box? What if I just put three feet on the box? Suppose I hang upside down from the edge of the box? Suppose I stand on it and look under it at the same time? How about if I put my front paws on it and bark?' For twenty minutes she offered me everything imaginable except just getting on the box and standing there. It was infuriating, and strangely exhausting. The otter would eat her fish and then run back to the box and present some new, fantastic variation and look at me expectantly (spitefully, even, I thought) while I struggled once more to decide if what she was doing fit my criteria or not.

My psychologist friends flatly refused to believe me; no animal acts like that. If you reinforce a response, you strengthen the chance that the animal will repeat what it was doing when it was reinforced; you don't precipitate some kind of guessing game.

So I showed them. We all went down to the otter tank, and I took the other otter and attempted to get it to swim through a small ~ Karen Pryor