Scanning Quotes

you can also use either the vSphere Client or the vSphere Web Client for attaching baselines and scanning hosts. ~ Brian Atkinson

With an amazingly balletic movement Zaphod was standing and scanning the horizon, because that was how far the gold ground stretched in every direction, perfectly smooth and solid. It gleamed like ... it's impossible to say what it gleamed like because nothing in the Universe gleams in quite the same way that a planet made of solid gold does. ~ Douglas Adams

His mother, a dried-up old lady with black eyes and ringlets, screwed up her eyes, scanning her son, and smiled slightly with her thin lips. Getting up from the seat and handing her maid a bag, she gave her little wrinkled hand to her son to kiss, and lifting his head from her hand, kissed him on the cheek. ~ Leo Tolstoy

Werner sleeps in a tiny dormitory with seven other fourteen-year-olds. The bunk above belongs to Frederick: a reedy boy, thin as a blade of grass, skin as pale as cream. Frederick is new too. He's from Berlin. His father is assistant to an ambassador. When Frederick speaks, his attention floats up, as though he's scanning the sky for something. ~ Anthony Doerr

With intimacy comes the possibility of "engulfment" or being taken hostage by the demands of others. We may have distorted perceptions of the "demands" and obligations placed upon us by those who claim to love us. Trusting that love to be unconditional is almost impossible for us, and we are always scanning for the unstated "subtext" or hidden "agenda" connected to this love. ~ Mary Crocker Cook

Every advance in information technology involves choosing what you want to preserve and what you want to ditch. Scanning rare books on to microfilm is a costly business. The library won't let you do it yourself - they decide first which books should be scanned and which should just rot away in the basement.
Against that eventuality, people should start hoarding the kind of books committees of rational people will decide against scanning into a database. ~ Robert Twigger

I found her standing on tiptoes, scanning a shelf that was indeed next to a painting of a dude on a horse. I thought he looked awfully irritated for a guy in such a spiffy ermine cape. ~ Rachel Hawkins

He hugs me tight while I look behind him, scanning faces like I did a few seconds ago. And like I will do for the rest of my life. ~ Ashley Elston

So disasters come not singly; But as if they watched and waited, Scanning one another's motions, When the first descends, the others Follow, follow, gathering flock-wiseRound their victim, sick and wounded, First a shadow, then a sorrow, Till the air is dark with anguish. ~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

A lot of times when people meet me, theyll definitely try to make me feel young or inexperienced. Like, Its all taken care of. Teenagers are such a discerning group of people. Theyll immediately sniff out anything that feels contrived. Im, like, constantly scanning myself to see if Im some corporate executive version of a teenager. Ive developed something of a fearsome reputation. People know that if you talk down to me, I will roll my eyes or whatever. ~ Lorde

First you need career capital, which requires patience. Second, you need to be ceaselessly scanning your always-changing view of the adjacent possible in your field, looking for the next big idea. ~ Anonymous

It used to be that, in astronomy, a small team of people could look at photos of a few thousand galaxies and classify and catalog them relatively easily. But now, with a new generation of robotic telescopes scanning the skies constantly and producing millions of images, that's become next to impossible. ~ Peter Diamandis

To Jesus she already is somebody. Like the loving father of the prodigal son, Jesus is frantically scanning the horizon, watching for Madonna to return to him. He's absolutely convinced that she's so valuable that she's worth dying for. 'Greater love has no one than this,' said Jesus in John 15:13, 'that one lay down his life for his friends.' That's what He did for her on the cross! ~ Lee Strobel

Kale Emerson?" Ronnie said, scanning the waiting room. There were only two people there, one was Harold's intern who was waiting to do his nightly bitch work, and the other one was a fuckingly handsome Captain America impersonator. ~ Kelsie Leverich

November 20. Andrius's birthday. I had counted the days carefully. I wished him a happy birthday when I woke and thought about him while hauling logs during the day. At night, I sat by the light of the stove, reading Dombey and Son. Krasivaya. I still hadn't found the word. Maybe I'd find it if I jumped ahead. I flipped through some of the pages. A marking caught my eye. I leafed backward. Something was written in pencil in the margin of 278.
Hello, Lina. You've gotten to page 278. That's pretty good!
I gasped, then pretened I was engrossed in the book. I looked at Andrius's handwritting. I ran my finger over this elongated letters in my name. Were there more? I knew I should read onward. I couldn't wait. I turned though the pages carefully, scanning the margins.
Page 300:
Are you really on page 300 or are you skipping ahead now?
I had to stifle my laughter.
Page 322:
Dombey and Son is boring. Admit it.
Page 364:
I'm thinking of you.
Page 412:
Are you maybe thinking of me?
I closed my eyes.
Yes, I'm thinking of you. Happy birthday, Andrius. ~ Ruta Sepetys

Sahl was never a great comic. His nervous, jabbing, keep-them-off-balance delivery was the strategy of a man who was not comfortable in front of an audience. His creative method -- a rapid scanning of the day's output of newspapers, magazines, and radio broadcasts -- was a recipe for superficiality or, at best, the kind of quick, shallow laugh triggered by a topical allusion. Sahl was always devoid of the two basic ingredients of great humor: imagination and soul. He could make fun of the latest Hollywood movies. He could stab at the pieties of his own class. He could take an abrupt insight into politics or wold events and phrase it neatly into a gag. What he could never do was suggest a world of living, breathing people behaving in ridiculous yet recognizably human patterns. ~ Albert Goldman

I am continually calming the restless scanning of my rational mind in order to perceive the finer energies that enable me to unitively merge with everything around me. ~ Ken Keyes Jr.

It is indeed a tricky name. It is often misspelt, because the eye tends to regard the "a" of the first syllable as a misprint and then tries to restore the symmetrical sequence by triplicating the "o"- filling up the row of circles, so to speak, as in a game of crosses and naughts. No-bow-cough. How ugly, how wrong. Every author whose name is fairly often mentioned in periodicals develops a bird-watcher's or caterpillar-picker's knack when scanning an article. But in my case I always get caught by the word "nobody" when capitalized at the beginning of a sentence. As to pronunciation, Frenchmen of course say Nabokoff, with the accent on the last syllable. Englishmen say Nabokov, accent on the first, and Italians say Nabokov, accent in the middle, as Russians also do. Na-bo-kov. A heavy open "o" as in "Knickerbocker". My New England ear is not offended by the long elegant middle "o" of Nabokov as delivered in American academies. The awful "Na-bah-kov" is a despicable gutterism. Well, you can make your choice now. Incidentallv, the first name is pronounced Vladeemer- rhyming with "redeemer"- not Vladimir rhyming with Faddimere (a place in England, I think). ~ Vladimir Nabokov

The things I was good at had no real application: addressing envelopes in bubble letters with smiling creatures on the flap. Making sludgy coffee I drank with grave affect. Finding a certain desired song playing on the radio, like a medium scanning for news of the dead. ~ Emma Cline

No sooner does a great man depart, and leave his character as public property, than a crowd of little men rushes towards it. There they are gathered together, blinking up to it with such vision as they have, scanning it from afar, hovering round it this way and that, each cunningly endeavoring, by all arts, to catch some reflex of it in the little mirror of himself. ~ Thomas Carlyle

I will check the internet for at least an hour every morning scanning worldwide news to do with child abuse. So if you're constantly putting yourself in an environment where you're checking up on social economics or homelessness problems, if you keep yourself aware of it, you don't really have a day off. ~ Samantha Morton

Finn grabbed a menu and started scanning through the choices, even though he'd memorized them all long ago. ~ Jennifer Estep

I was thinking; my mind was running at top speed, scanning and sorting my options. They ranged all the way from Dumb and Dangerous to Crazy, Evil, and utterly wrong from the start. ~ Hunter S. Thompson

The hour has come to leave for the meeting place where I show him my face. He shall see the dark fire of my eyes and hear the wild wind in my voice. He will feel my presence full of stars, scanning his soul, and he shall know my raw power in his bones. I go to the meeting place where he will surrender to my fierce energy. The dancing, brooding passion goes in the cloak of night to where the human dares not go, but must. I am his destiny and his death, and he knows not my name. ~ Robert Lloyd

Sean does the sweep of his eyes that he does, the one that goes from my head to my toes and back again and makes me feel that he's scanning the depths of my soul and teasing out my motivations and sins. It's worse than confession with Father Mooneyham. At the end of it, he says, If you help, this will go faster. ~ Maggie Stiefvater

I shook my head. "Tomorrow you won't even remember my name, my face - "
He stepped closer, eyes scanning me. "Emerson Wingate. Dark hair with reddish highlights. Bright blue eyes." His gaze dipped, roaming over me. "Hundred ten. Hundred fifteen pounds. Your hands . . ." He plucked one of my hands up, pressing his palm flush to mine. He considered our kissing palms, my hand so much smaller than his own. The tips of my fingers barely passed his middle knuckle.
"Beautiful hands." My chest tightened at his deep voice washing over me. "Slender. Fine-boned but strong. Like they play an instrument. Piano maybe?" His eyes locked with mine. A dark eyebrow arched in question.
"I-I paint," I admitted.
He smiled as if he had just solved some kind of puzzle. "You paint," he echoed and continued, marking characteristics like he was reading off a chart. "Skin smooth. Pale. A tight little body perfect for tying guys up in knots."
My eyes shot to his face and I yanked my hand away from his. I rubbed my palm against my thigh, still feeling his touch there. "Go to hell."
"Temperamental." He gave me his half smile. "See? I'll remember you. ~ Sophie Jordan

I lifted my rifle and peered through the military scope at a snowroughened landscape, scanning the dead cornstalks and winter-stripped trees for wild boar. ~ Eleni Kounalakis

I sometimes look into the face of my dog Stan and see a wistful sadness and existential angst, when all he is actually doing is slowly scanning the ceiling for flies. ~ Merrill Markoe

When our fears and anxiety prevent sleep, we can pray instead of scanning Google. We can ask for guidance from the Lord when we are confronted with possible problems. He is faithful to answer and grant peace for the night. Father, ~ Sandra Peoples

I love the name of it. Makes me feel hopeful. I want it over my mantle." I paused in what I was doing, my eyes scanning over the photos title, Second Chances. He was smiling, I could hear it in his voice, when he added, "And I could tell it was your favorite when you showed it to me. I figure I have a better chance of getting you to come back to my house, if I fill it with the things you love." He'd hit his target with the opening salvo. That second part was just overkill. ~ R.K. Lilley

...and David Wallace blinks in the midst of idly scanning class photos from his 1980 Aurora West H.S. yearbook and seeing my photo and trying, through the tiny little keyhole of himself, to imagine what all must have happened to lead up to my death in the fiery single-car accident he'd read about in 1991... ~ David Foster Wallace

One day a little old lady came and asked my name, saying she couldn't read my nametag. I told her and reached for the little slip of paper she held, but she put it behind her back. It seemed she wanted to chat before giving it up. Fine with me. We chatted about our matching cardigans (the fact that I dress like a little old lady was not lost on me) and we chatted about how the Portland weather bothered her bones. We talked for a long while about her husband and how much she'd grown to hate him over the years. Then, since I guessed I'd earned her trust, she handed me her slip of paper. It was for a book on exotic poisons. I got her the book and spent the next few weeks scanning the obituaries for every old man that had died. So, yes, folks I may be an accomplice to murder. Don't say there's no excitement at the library. ~ Nick Pageant

Spend two minutes a day scanning the world for three new things you're grateful for. And do that for 21 days, The reason why that's powerful is you're training your brain to scan the world in a new pattern, you're scanning for positives, instead of scanning for threats. It's the fastest way of teaching optimism. ~ Shawn Achor

A vast unfocused rage rose in her, against men who considered displays of emotion a delicious open door; men who ogled your breasts under the pretense of scanning the wine shelves; men for whom your mere physical presence constituted a lubricious invitation. Her ~ Robert Galbraith

I have no animus toward digital, though I still pretty much take everything on a silver-based negative, either a wet plate or just regular silver 8x10. But I've started messing a little bit with scanning the negative and then reworking it just slightly. ~ Sally Mann

Anything else?" Yes, my body can dissolve other magic on contact. I'm essentially a battering ram against magic. "No, that's it." Kai turned in place, his eyes scanning the scene. "Something feels wrong here." The magic-dissolving battering ram standing next to you. ~ Ella Summers

Once, headed uptown on the 9 train, I noticed a sign posted by the Metropolitan Transit Authority advising subway riders who might become ill in the train. The sign asked that the suddenly infirm inform another passenger or get out at the next stop and approach the stationmaster. Do not, repeat, do not pull the emergency brake, the sign said, as this will only delay aid. Which was all very logical, but for the following proclamation at the bottom of the sign, something along the lines of, "If you are sick, you will not be left alone." This strikes me as not only kind, not only comforting, but the very epitome of civilization, good government, i.e., the the crux of the societal impulse. Banding together, pooling our taxes, not just making trains, not just making trains that move underground, not just making trains that move underground with surprising efficiency at a fair price - but posting on said trains a notification of such surprising compassion and thoughtfulness. I found myself scanning the faces of my fellow passengers, hoping for fainting, obvious fevers, at the very least a sneeze so that I might offer a tissue. ~ Sarah Vowell

It doesn't take a literary detective, scanning the passage above, to notice that he is partly saying of Orwell what Orwell actually says about Gissing. This half-buried resentment can be further noticed when Williams turns to paradox. I have already insisted that Orwell contains opposites and even contradictions, but where is the paradox in a 'humane man who communicated an extreme of inhuman terror'? Where is the paradox in 'a man committed to decency who actualized a distinctive squalor'? The choice of verbs is downright odd, if not a little shady. 'Communicated'? 'Actualised'? Assuming that Williams means to refer to Nineteen Eighty-Four in the first case, which he certainly does, would it not be more precise to say that Orwell 'evoked' or even 'prefigured' or perhaps simply 'described' an extreme of inhuman terror? Yet that choice of verb, because more accurate, would be less 'paradoxical.' Because what Williams means to imply, but is not brave enough to say, is that Orwell 'invented' the picture of totalitarian collectivism.

As for 'actualising' a distinctive squalor, the author of that useful book Keywords has here chosen a deliberately inexact term. He may mean Nineteen Eighty-Four again - he is obsessed with the 'gritty dust' that infests Orwell's opening passage - or he may mean the depictions of the mean and cramped (and malodorous) existence imposed on the denizens of Wigan Pier. But to 'actualise' such squalor is either to make it real - no contradictio ~ Christopher Hitchens

Hey!" I wave my index finger in his face, "No shitting on pop music. Everyone needs some light, fun, sexy pop music. It's summer, and that right there, is the perfect summer song. It's hot."
"You're right, it is hot," he says, scanning my body with his eyes. ~ Hilaria Alexander

This time I look at him longer, properly, scanning his face for some sign of what he is thinking - some judgment, some hint of blame or guilt that I'm standing there, talking about leaving his people and mine, about abandoning our whole lives. About running away. But he only smiles at me, his fingers sliding from my cheek to twine around a floating lock of hair, making it spiral in midair. ~ Amie Kaufman

Where's Shelley?" I ask, scanning the room.
"Playing checkers, as usual," Georgia says, pointing to the corner. Shelley isn't facing me, but I recognize the back of her head and her wheelchair.
She's squealing, a hint that she won the game.
As I get closer to her, I catch a glimpse of who's playing against her. The dark hair should have been a clue that my life is about to be turned upside down, but it doesn't fully register. I freeze.
It can't be. My imagination must be going berserk.
But when he turns around and those familiar dark eyes pierce mine, reality zings up my spine like a lightning bolt.
Alex is here. Ten steps away from me. Oh, God, every feeling I've ever had for him comes rushing back like a tidal wave. I don't know what to do or say. I turn back to Georgia, wondering if she knew Alex was here. One look at her hopeful face tells me she did. ~ Simone Elkeles

Dora watched him for a while, nervously, and then returned to scanning the whole group. Seeing them all together like that she felt excluded and aggressive, and Noel's exhortations came back to her. They had a secure complacent look about them: the spiritual ruling class; and she wished suddenly that she might grow as large and fierce as a gorilla and shake the flimsy doors off their hinges, drowning the repulsive music in a savage carnivorous yell. ~ Iris Murdoch

How to Climb a Mountain

Make no mistake. This will be an exercise in staying vertical.
Yes, there will be a view, later, a wide swath of open sky,
but in the meantime: tree and stone. If you're lucky, a hawk will
coast overhead, scanning the forest floor. If you're lucky,
a set of wildflowers will keep you cheerful. Mostly, though,
a steady sweat, your heart fluttering indelicately, a solid ache
perforating your calves. This is called work, what you will come to know,
eventually and simply, as movement, as all the evidence you need to make
your way. Forget where you were. That story is no longer true.
Level your gaze to the trail you're on, and even the dark won't stop you. ~ Maya Stein

We also have the option of scanning in an image from outside the computer ... a photo, or a sketch done with traditional tools; and we can then paint, manipulate, process, change, and further develop the image within the computer, watching our progress on the monitor. ~ Buffy Sainte-Marie

Mike was on the rooftop scanning for targets with his Mk 48 when an insurgent grenade flew over the wall, hit him in the chest, and fell in front of him. He told us how Mike yelled, "Grenade!" before he threw himself on top of it to protect the other Teamguys and Jundis on the roof. He told us Mikey died en route to the aid station. The two Teamguys who had been next to him on the roof survived with superficial wounds. A couple of days before he was supposed to go home, Mike Monsoor gave his life to save his brothers. ~ Kevin Lacz

Massive changes may have occurred in libraries in recent years, with new digital resources and services supplementing the old traditional resources and services, the dog-eared card catalogues ripped up and destroyed, workstations suddenly everywhere, but one essential aspect of "libraryness" has not changed: libraries remain places dedicated to storage. Books continue to be published in greater and greater numbers – so great in fact that there are no accurate figures as to exactly how many are published: some say one every thirty seconds, others four thousand per day, others a million per year – and somehow, whether through the off-site storage of the physical books themselves, or microfilm copying, or digital scanning, we remain obliged to keep up with or afloat in this vast deluge of paper. Even the new, high-tech rebranded libraries opened to great fanfare in the London Borough of Tower Hamlets in the 1990s could not get away from this essential fact of paper hoarding: they were called "Idea Stores." - p.56 ~ Ian Sansom

I stood with my arms crossed, scanning the crowd. My eyes hated on a very tall gorilla looking in our direction. He bore a red badge on his furry chest. I had no idea how long we stared at each other, unmoving, before I lifted one hand in a wave.
"Who are you waving at?" Veronica asked me.
"Um, that big monkey. I think he's starting at ... us."
And at that moment, the gorilla lfited an arm and scratched his armpit. The silly gesture filled me with a rush of joy. But I wasn't going to him.
I faced my friends, chewing my thumbnail. Please come over. When I glanced again, he was walking our way. Yes! My pulse went erratic. ~ Wendy Higgins

Essence of newspaper is the large size. You are a reader you're an eagle flying over the desert, you're scanning. You see the rabbit and you zoom down and you grab it. That just happens naturally in a size that fits very well with how the human body works. Got to have a large display and it has to be portable. ~ Russ Wilcox

What a nice thing to say," Mom said, standing up a little straighter, as if she'd been watered. Marlena's manners were unpracticed, but she was what Dad would call winning. She was abrupt in a way that I always associate with rude people, but bestowed a kind of brightness on whatever caught her interest---if it happened to be you, nothing felt more sublime. Though when the beam of her attention drifted away, a searchlight scanning the next bit of horizon, it stung. She would have done well in New York, where so many people cultivate that air of intensity cut with indifference. ~ Julie Buntin

She told me later that she had made a kind of note of me in her mind, as, scanning the shelf for a particular book, one will sometimes have one's attention caught by another, take it down, glance at the title page and saying "I must read that, too, when I've the time," replace it and continue the search. ~ Evelyn Waugh

There was another thought which a scanning of those tiny electronic headlines often invoked. The more wonderful the means of communication, the more trivial, tawdry or depressing its contents seemed to be. Accidents, crimes, natural and man-made disasters, threats of conflict, gloomy editorials - these still seemed to be the main concern of the millions of words being sprayed into the ether. Yet Floyd also wondered if this was altogether a bad thing; the newspapers of Utopia, he had long ago decided, would be terribly dull. From ~ Arthur C. Clarke

The recorder consisted of a biochip smaller than the head of a pin implanted into the hippocampus and nanosensors embedded throughout the body. Normally, the system lay dormant. But as soon as it detected severe deviations from the norm in various brain activity parameters - indicative of the stress caused by imminent death or great danger - the black-box would automatically contact the police and record the short-term memory in the hippocampus via molecular scanning. In the event of death, about one to two minutes of memories preceding the cessation of brain activity could be decrypted from the black box. ~ Bao Shu

I loved wandering around the bookshelves, scanning the spines until something happened to catch my eye. Those visits were dreamy, frictionless interludes that promised I would leave richer than I arrived. It wasn't like going to a store with my mom, which guaranteed a tug-of-war between what I wanted and what my mother was willing to buy me; in the library I could have anything I wanted. ~ Susan Orlean

Being a living trans person means vigilance. For a non-passing trans person, there is no safe space. It is not who we are kissing, but our very heights, our voices, and the size of our hands that catalyze hatred and violence. Forget activism; simply negotiating one's world every day, constantly judging, adjusting, scanning one's surroundings, and changing clothes to go from one role to another can be overwhelming.

Add to that cases of family disownment, poverty, homelessness, HIV. When a recent study of transgender youth reports that half their sample had entertained thoughts of suicide, and a quarter of them had made at least one attempt, I am not surprised. ~ Ryka Aoki

He turned over the application, and Lauren watched him scanning it, his gaze nearing the bottom where she had listed her job preferences. She knew the exact instant he spotted what she had written. "What the...!" he said, astonished, and then he burst out laughing. "Weatherby and I are going to have to be careful. Which of our jobs do you want most?"
"Neither," Lauren said shortly. "I did that because on my way to the interview at Sinco,I decided I didn't want to work there after all."
"So you purposely flunked your tests,is that it?"
"That's it."
"Lauren..." he began in a soft seductive voice that instantly put her on guard.
"I've had the dubious pleasure of reading through your file," she clarified, at his stunned look. "I know all about Bebe Leonardos and the French movie star.I even saw the picture of you that was taken with Ericka Moran the day after you sent me away because a "business aquaintance' was coming to see you."
"And," he concluded evenly, "you were hurt."
"I was disgusted," Lauren shot back, refusing to admit to any of the anguish she'd felt. ~ Judith McNaught

Zachary maneuvered the vehicle down the rutted lane, scanning the corners for signs of danger. Two minutes and they'd be safe. Free. Absurd, giddy joy lit Zachary up. He smiled at Brian. "Jesus, you're a pain in the ass."
Brian grinned. "But I give great head, Sir. ~ Kari Gregg

It's been years since I tried to count the stars. I spent a lot of long teenage nights staring up there trying to count them. I needed to know their number. I remember waiting until the whole house was quiet, until my parents' soft voices in the room next to mine had stopped. I remember sneaking out the window in my nightie, no slippers on my feel, and lying down in the middle of the lawn. It was cold but I didn't care. I would stare at the sky, but the fucking things move. I tried to imagine the sky as a grid, drawing lines from objects on the ground. I tried scanning it with an aluminum-foil tube. I tried everything. Nothing works. ~ Toni Jordan

Lovely ceremony, gorgeous bride. Take care of her." Troy brushed his thumb over his lips, scanning my body like it was dessert. ~ L.J. Shen

When you write a book, you spend day after day scanning and identifying the trees. When you're done, you have to step back and look at the forest. ~ Stephen King

It was called evolutionary biology. Under its sway, the sexes were separated again, men into hunters and women into gatherers. Nurture no longer formed us; nature did. Impulses of hominids dating from 20,000 B.C. were still controlling us. And so today on television and in magazines you get the current simplifications. Why can't men communicate? (Because they had to be quiet on the hunt.) Why do women communicate so well? (Because they had to call out to one another where the fruits and berries were.) Why can men never find things around the house? (Because they have a narrow field of vision, useful in tracking prey.) Why can women find things so easily? (Because in protecting the nest they were used to scanning a wide field.) Why can't women parallel-park? (Because low testosterone inhibits spatial ability.) Why won't men ask for directions? (Because asking for directions is a sign of weakness, and hunters never show weakness.) This is where we are today. Men and women, tired of being the same, want to be different again. ~ Jeffrey Eugenides

It wasn't until he turned that she saw him, a huge, towering man close enough to hear everything they were saying. She gasped, and Beckett laughed. "Don't scare her to death!" He pulled Candy over to the man in the shadows, smiling. "This is my security detail. Mouse, meet Candy Cox." Mouse nodded. "Hey, Candy." He stepped forward, and she noticed he was younger than she'd initially thought. His voice was high and squeaky. He made no comment about her name, and that made her like him. Beckett slapped Mouse on the arm but missed the look of pure devotion on the man's face because he'd turned back to speak to her. "If you ever see this dude around, know I sent him. He's safe." Candy held out her hand formally, like her family had ingrained in her. Mouse took it and gave her a gentle smile. "Thanks, Mouse. Nice to meet you." He nodded and stepped back, scanning the area. ~ Debra Anastasia

Evie, bed down." Scanning the dark, he murmured, "You doan have to be scared. I've got you."
You do, don't you? Here we were in the Bagmen's lair, and I wasn't terrified for my life. Jackson would kill
any that strayed too close. In fact, they should fear him.
I was with the boy that monsters should fear. ~ Kresley Cole

Tell the thanes to bring candidates to the Thing Room in one hour. I'll be scanning the Nine Worlds from Hlidskjalf if you need me. And, Hunding?"
"Yes, Lord Odin?"
"Don't need me. ~ Rick Riordan

It's a great honor, m'ijo. We know that. I'm sure everyone in Ysleta is proud of you. But this is who you are," she said, for a moment scanning the dark night air and the empty street. A cricket chirped in the darkness. "God help you when you go to this 'Havid.' You will be so far away from us, from everything you know. You will be alone. What if something happens to you? Who's going to help you? But you always wanted to be alone; you were always so independent, so stubborn."

"Like you. ~ Sergio Troncoso

Lucas Delos stood over her, his body tense, his eyes scanning the distance for something that Helen couldn't see from her position on the ground.
"'Are you injured?'" he asked in a low, unsteady voice, still looking out over her head. There was blood on his lip and his shirt was torn.
Helen had a bare moment to say she was fine before she heard the sobbing sisters start to whisper. ~ Josephine Angelini

Well,' Rydell said, trying to pick up his end, 'I was watching this one old movie last night-'
Sublett perked up. 'Which one?'
Dunno,' Rydell said. 'This guy's in L.A. and he's just met this girl. Then he picks up a pay phone, 'cause it's ringing. Late at night. It's some guy in a missile silo somewhere who knows they've just launched theirs at the Russians. He's trying to phone his dad, or his brother, or something. Says the world's gonna end in short order. Then the guy who answered the phone hears these soldiers come in and shoot the guy. The guy on the phone, I mean.'
Suhlett closed his eyes, scanning his inner trivia-banks. 'Yeah? How's it end?'
Dunno,' Rydell said. 'I went to sleep. ~ William Gibson

How do I stop this misery?" I groaned, scanning the shelves for a cure.

"Don't go out there," he said flatly.

I contemplated this reasonable observation for about sixteen seconds. Move to town. Hang out at the laundromat. Have eight children. Then I melted back into the pinon-juniper forest. ~ Ellen Meloy

From the corner of her eye, the wildflowers along the wall caught her attention. "Roar, wait!"
Roar turned around. "Yes?" he asked, arching an eyebrow.
Aria ran to the wall, scanning the flowers. She found the right one and plucked it. She drew in its scent and imagined Perry walking beside her, his bow across his back, looking over with his lopsided grin.
She brought the flower to Roar. "I changed my mind," she said. "Give him this."
Roar's eyes crinkled in confusion. "I thought you liked roses. What's this?"
"A violet." ~ Veronica Rossi

Wait," said Winter as Scarlet nudged the podship forward. Scarlet's heart dropped. "What?" she said, scanning the port for a thaumaturge, a guard, a threat. Winter reached over and pulled the pilot's harness over Scarlet's head. "Safety first, Scarlet-friend. We are fragile things. ~ Marissa Meyer

We might begin by scanning our body ... and then asking, "What is happening?" We might also ask, "What wants my attention right now?" or, "What is asking for acceptance? ~ Tara Brach

Scanning USA Today during those weeks [searching for murderer Michael Perry] was interesting because I would come to a headline like, "Suspect in five murders. . .," and it wouldn't be Perry, "Mass Killer Still At Large. . .," and it wouldn't be Perry, "Man Wanted For Family Slayings. . .," and it wouldn't be Perry. Only in America. ~ Gavin DeBecker

The only real mystery in the stories of political plagiarism is its durability in an age of Turnitin and other scanning software that can protect an author from his own mistakes, intentional or otherwise. ~ Evan Osnos

As she appears in the room, her face is still covered by the hood of her coat, but I can see the outline of her chin, and a faint glow that frightens me. She slowly pulls back the hood and her eyes bore into me. Eyes red with flame, it is though they are scanning my soul, deep within me."

From 'She Blames Me' (Banfield Tales) ~ Michael Braccia

I'm scanning the sky for doo-doo missiles, when there's a bloodcurdling scream. An ugly thing with a human body, ears like a rabbit and a face so grotesque it would make gladiators wet their pants leaps off the roof of the houseboat. It lands right in front of me. ~ J.E. Fison

Yet our world of abundance, with seas of wine and alps of bread, has hardly turned out to be the ebullient place dreamt of by our ancestors in the famine-stricken years of the Middle Ages. The brightest minds spend their working lives simplifying or accelerating functions of unreasonable banality. Engineers write theses on the velocities of scanning machines and consultants devote their careers to implementing minor economies in the movements of shelf-stackers and forklift operators. The alcohol-inspired fights that break out in market towns on Saturday evenings are predictable symptoms of fury at our incarceration. They are a reminder of the price we pay for our daily submission at the altars of prudence and order - and of the rage that silently accumulates beneath a uniquely law-abiding and compliant surface. ~ Alain De Botton

This (scanning project) is our chance to one-up the Greeks! It is really possible with the technology of today, not tomorrow. We can provide all the works of humankind to all the people of the world. It will be an achievement remembered for all time, like putting a man on the moon. ~ Brewster Kahle

My prolonged study of these photographs led me to appreciate the importance of preserving certain moments for prosperity, and as time moved forwards I also came to see what a powerful influence these framed scenes exerted over us as we went about our daily lives.
To watch my uncle pose my brother a maths problem, and at the same time to see him in a picture taken thirty-two years earlier; to watch my father scanning the newspaper and trying, with a half-smile, to catch the tail of a joke rippling across the crowded room, and at that very same moment to see a picture of him to me that my grandmother had framed and frozen these memories so that we could weave them into the present.When, in the tones ordinarily preserved for discussing the founding of a nation, my grandmother spoke of my grandfather who had died so young, and pointed at the frames on the tables and the walls, it seemed that she, like me, was pulled in two direction , wanting to get on with life but also longing to capture the moment of perfection, savouring the ordinary life but still honouring the ideal. But even as I pondered these dilemmas-if you plucked a special moment from life and framed it, were you defying death, decay and the passage of time, or were you submitting to them? - I grew very bored with them. ~ Orhan Pamuk

I've always been very interested in the question of how computation can fundamentally advance the things that we can see. This led me to have a fascination with medical imaging, especially things like MRI and scanning, and eventually computer graphics. ~ Ren Ng

There is a war going on out there, and it's only worth waking to the dying night if you are prepared to be utterly ruthless'; a war - he kept scanning the rooftops - where everything is engaged in a conflict that has no rules; a war in which one side must continually besiege the other, in which to aim at anything but victory was pointless. It was a struggle in which the only power to remain standing was that which looked for no reasons, which was content to accept that the whole thing should remain without an explanation, because - and here he remembered The Prince's advice - it simply didn't exist... ~ Laszlo Krasznahorkai

Our problem-scanning machine (amygdala) and our serenity-now mood tape (prefrontal cortex) are at war. ~ Neil Pasricha

Of course, there are crude messages. Vile ones. Ones that don't seem like they cam from a real human being at all, but some computer program designed to say things no person should say to another person. I read all of those too, like Pringles- they might be terrible for you, but once you pop, you can't stop. This is a rollercoaster that only goes down. Near the end I feel like a hollow shell clicking a mouse, scanning words with aching eyes. ~ Francesca Zappia

Loading your brain with subliminal messages ... How loathsome to turn a sadistic murder into entertainment [in the newspaper]
and yet how hard not to read about it. What dark comedy to realize that you are scanning for descriptions of torture as you disapprove. Which of course only makes it more entertaining. "But naturally I was hoping they'd report something grisly," you say to your friends, who chuckle lighthearted acknowledgment of hypocrisy. ~ Mary Gaitskill

What we feel and how we feel is far more important than what we think and how we think. Feeling is the stuff of which our consciousness is made, the atmosphere in which all our thinking and all our conduct is bathed. All the motives which govern and drive our lives are emotional. Love and hate, anger and fear, curiosity and joy are the springs of all that is most noble and most detestable in the history of men and nations.

The opening sentence of a sermon is an opportunity. A good introduction arrests me. It handcuffs me and drags me before the sermon, where I stand and hear a Word that makes me both tremble and rejoice. The best sermon introductions also engage the listener immediately. It's a rare sermon, however, that suffers because of a good introduction.

Mysteries beg for answers. People's natural curiosity will entice them to stay tuned until the puzzle is solved. Any sentence that points out incongruity, contradiction, paradox, or irony will do.

Talk about what people care about. Begin writing an introduction by asking, "Will my listeners care about this?" (Not, "Why should they care about this?")

Stepping into the pulpit calmly and scanning the congregation to the count of five can have a remarkable effect on preacher and congregation alike. It is as if you are saying, "I'm about to preach the Word of God. I want all of you settled. I'm not going to begin, in fact, until I have your complete attention."

No sermon ~ Mark Galli

I'm stepping into an entirely different world, aren't I?" Analise asked, scanning the trees. "I'm not really a part of yours. I'm nothing more than an interloper, but I'm not fully in mine anymore. I'm stuck between the two, on the fringes of both, not belonging in either. ~ J.D. Caren

The approach to digital culture I abhor would indeed turn all the world's books into one book, just as Kevin (Kelly) suggested. It might start to happen in the next decade or so. Google and other companies are scanning library books into the cloud in a massive Manhattan Project of cultural digitization. What happens next is what's important. If the books in the cloud are accessed via user interfaces that encourage mashups of fragments that obscure the context and authorship of each fragment, there will be only one book. This is what happens today with a lot of content; often you don't know where a quoted fragment from a news story came from, who wrote a comment, or who shot a video. A continuation of the present trend will make us like various medieval religious empires, or like North Korea, a society with a single book.

The Bible can serve as a prototypical example. Like Wikipedia, the Bible's authorship was shared, largely anonymous, and cumulative, and the obscurity of the individual authors served to create an oracle-like ambience for the document as "the literal word of God." If we take a non-metaphysical view of the Bible, it serves as a link to our ancestors, a window. The ethereal, digital replacement technology for the printing press happens to have come of age in a time when the unfortunate ideology I'm criticizing dominates technological culture. Authorship - the very idea of the individual point of view - is not a priority of the new ideology. The digi ~ Jaron Lanier

I shuffled my weight from foot to foot, trying to relieve some of the soreness and wondering how long it would take Reth to figure out where I was and get into Raquel's room.
The door slid open in reply.
Jack and I darted in, letting out twin sighs of relief. Lend, of course, immediately dropped to the floor. Naked, still. I doubted Raquel had anything in his size.
"He was rather upset waking up in the Faerie Paths with me," Reth said.
"I can't imagine." I quickly scanned Raquel's austere living room area. "There, help me get him into that closet."
Jack grabbed an arm and we dragged my poor boyfriend across the floor and shoved him into the tiny coat closet next to Raquel's vacuum. I added watching Lend walk to the things I missed most about him.
We closed the door and after a few moments a loud thunk sounded. "What the - Where am I? Evie?"
"Right here," I said, tapping on the door. "You're in a closet in Raquel's unit."
"Why?"
"Because I'm going to search the rest of her place and I didn't want you to risk brain damage by any more unconscious falls."
He muttered something unintelligible but distinctly grouchy and I turned, quickly scanning the room. ~ Kiersten White

I shot my undergraduate work on 35mm. I love the way it looks, but I haven't shot film in a while. If you can avoid scanning, it makes your practice faster. Oh, and I shoot a lot of Polaroid, too. I have about five hundred Polaroids from my film that I hope to show soon. ~ Laurel Nakadate

The scanning of barcodes, or the reading of RFID transponders, generates data that is used in a software package to provide management or control information. ~ Mike Marsh

Far be it from me to slow down two badass supermodels on a mission, but we have a problem," a male voice said wryly.
I could see Christian out of the corner of my eye as we turned, his stance and movements almost synchronized to my own. We shared a look, our expressions almost identically similar, wit arched brows and half-smiles.
"What's the problem?" I called out, scanning the faces to see who had spoken.
"You're a badass supermodel," Christian muttered under his breath at the same time, taking the mature approach, as usual. ~ Rebecca K. Lilley

When I was a kid, I'd wake up extraordinarily early every morning and turn on the television, scanning for episodes of 'The Jetsons.' For some reason, I loved the notion of a future where there would be flying cars, supercomputers, and most of all, robot maids to take care of the chores. ~ Ben Shapiro

Most readers look at the photograph first. If you put it in the middle of the page, the reader will start by looking in the middle. Then her eye must go up to read the headline; this doesn't work, because people have a habit of scanning downwards. However, suppose a few readers do read the headline after seeing the photograph below it. After that, you require them to jump down past the photograph which they have already seen. Not bloody likely. ~ David Ogilvy

We were there too, the other geeks and weird kids whose lives were hellish at school, who escaped into books and computers, who stayed up all night scanning obscure forums, looking for transcendence, dreaming of elsewhere. We were there too, but you didn't see us, because we were girls. And the costs of being the geek were the same for us, right down to the sexual frustration, the yearning, the being laughed at, the loneliness. […] We had to fight the same battles you did, only harder, because we were women and we also had to fight sexism, some of it from you, and when we went looking for other weird kids to join our gang, we were told we weren't 'real geeks' because we were girls. ~ Laurie Penny

In your house, do you use the term "scanning" when you refer to skimming through posts and texts and reserve the word "reading" for ONLY longer articles and books? Doing so may sound picky, but it promotes awareness. ~ Anonymous

Whatare they doing?"
Brodick glanced at the women. "Chasing Ramsey," he answered very matter-of-factly before returning to his task of scanning the field.
"Why?
"Why what?" he asked as he continued to search.
She sighed. "Why are the ladies chasing him?"
The question startled him, for what should have been obvious to Gillian appeared not to be obvious at all. With a shrug, he said, "It's what they all do."
"All the ladies chase him?" she asked, still not understanding.
He finally gave her his full attention. "Yes, they do," he said quietly.
"But why?"
"You don't know?"
"I wouldn't ask if I knew, Brodick," she said, thoroughly perplexed.
"They find him ... handsome," he finally said for lack of a better word. "That's what I've been told anyway. ~ Julie Garwood

Not much different from the morgue. Smaller," she noted, scanning the steel worktables, the gullies on the sides, the hoses and tubes and tools. "I guess he got some of his knowledge of anatomy working here. Might have had some of his early practice sessions on corpses."
"Charming thought."
"Yeah, well, being as they were already dead - hopefully - it probably didn't upset them too much. Oh, and FYI? When my time comes, I don't want the preservatives and the stylist. You can just build a big fire, slide me in. Then you can throw yourself on the pyre to show your wild grief and constant devotion."
"I'll make a note of it. ~ J.D. Robb

A person who has resolved to 'think positive' must constantly scan his or her mind for negative thoughts – there's no other way that the mind could ever gauge its success at the operation – yet that scanning will draw attention to the presence of negative thoughts. ~ Oliver Burkeman

Scanning the newspapers and absorbing with a mixture of incredulity and indignation the enormities they report, I conclude that what England lacks today is, quite simply, sense. ~ Paul Johnson

Like boats, we human beings need anchors, no matter how tenuously those links may hold us, or else we drift forever through uncharted oceans, scanning every horizon for a hint of hope. And with the chances of being picked up and rescued so small, we need our islands, our mooring points, our ports, our points of reference and our havens. ~ Morgana Blackrose

Old people and their hyper-calibrated radar. They can't hear a word, and they can barely get out of their chairs, but they've got six or seven other senses, scanning, collecting, decoding. ~ Kelly Corrigan

The winds of change blow over the sea of hope as we ride the heavens high above.
Forever searching for the isle of dreams, forever looking, forever scanning the horizon.
But for most of us, it's in vain it would seem, for the isle of hope, is nowhere to be seen.
But for some, a glimpse is enough, to stretch out one's hand, and snatch at its thread.
It's all it takes, it's all you need, for if you do it, you're sure to succeed. ~ Anthony T. Hincks