The Last Mile Quotes

To me, the last mile of the Internet that very few people have successfully really done. And this is like micro local. Things that really impact your life. And noone's leveraging that yet. ~ Sarah Lacy

No one would say, 'Hey, I think this medicine works, go ahead and use it.' We have testing, we go to the lab, we try it again, we have refinement. But you know what we do on the last mile? 'Oh, this is a good idea. People will like this. Let's put it out there.' ~ Sendhil Mullainathan

Innovation within services like CompuServe took place at the center of the network rather than at its fringes. PCs were to be only the delivery vehicles for data sent to customers, and users were not themselves expected to program or to be able to receive services from anyone other than their central service provider. CompuServe depended on the phone network's physical layer generativity to get the last mile to a subscriber's house, but CompuServe as a service was not open to third-party tinkering. ~ Jonathan L. Zittrain

Poem
Heart of the heartless world,
Dear heart, the thought of you
Is the pain at my side,
The shadow that chills my view.
The wind rises in the evening,
Reminds that autumn is near.
I am afraid to lose you,
I am afraid of my fear.
On the last mile to Huesca,
The last fence for our pride,
Think so kindly, dear, that I
Sense you at my side.
And if bad luck should lay my strength
Into the shallow grave,
Remember all the good you can;
Don't forget my love. ~ John Cornford

The wide corridor up the centre of E Block was floored with linoleum the colour of tired old limes, and so what was the Last Mile at other prisons was called the Green Mile at Cold Mountain. ~ Stephen King

I tear down Baxter, which loops around the last mile down to Back Cove.
And then I stop short. The buildings have fallen away behind me, giving way to ramshackle sheds, sparsely situated on either side of the cracked and run-down road. Beyond that, a short strip of tall, weedy grass slants down toward the cove.
The water is an enormous mirror, tipped with pink and gold from the sky. In that single, blazing moment as I come around the bend, the sun - curved over the dip of the horizon like a solid gold archway - lets out its final winking rays of light, shattering the darkness of the water, turning everything white for a fraction of a second, and then falls away, sinking, dragging the pink and the red and the purple out of the sky with it, all the color bleeding away instantly and leaving only dark.
Alex was right. It was gorgeous - one of the best I've ever seen. ~ Lauren Oliver

The Death House back then was a self-contained unit, with its own hospital, kitchen, exercise yard and visiting room. The cells were inadequate, dark, and did not have proper sanitary facilities or ventilation. One window and skylight furnished the ventilation and light of the entire unit. Twelve cells were on the lower tier, six on each side, facing each other, with a narrow corridor between them. Five cells were located in an upper tier. There was an area the prisoners called the Dance Hall that housed a prisoner to be executed on his last day. The narrow corridor connected the Dance Hall to the execution room, where the Electric Chair resided. The prisoners named this corridor the Last Mile or the Green Mile, because this was the last walk a prisoner would take all the way to the small green riveted door at the end of the corridor, on his way to the execution room. ~ Yasmin Tirado-Chiodini

All endeavour calls for the ability to tramp the last mile, shape the last plan, endure the last hours toil. ~ Henry David Thoreau

I reassessed the map and my timing. I had to come up with a plan to get myself out of this mess, and fast.
I turned 90 degrees and started to climb back up onto the high ground that I had just come off. This was way off-route, I should be heading down, but I just knew that the high ground would be better than fighting a losing battle in the bog. I had done that before--and lost.
The wind was blowing hard now, down from the plateau, as if trying to deter me. I put my head down, ignored the shoulder straps that pulled and heaved against my lower neck muscles, and went for it. I had to take control.
I was refusing to fail Selection again in this godforsaken armpit of a place.
Once on the ridge, I started to run. And running anywhere in that moon grass, with the weight of a small person on your back, was a task. But I was on fire. I kept running. And I kept clawing back the time and miles.
I ran all the way into the last checkpoint and then collapsed. The DS looked at me strangely and chuckled to himself.
"Good effort," he commented, having watched me cover the last mile or so of rough ground. I had made it within time.
Demons dead. Adrenaline firing. ~ Bear Grylls

Net Neutrality originally referred to management of the 'last mile' of the network over which data flows into a person's home, but the debate has grown beyond that in recent years. ~ Marsha Blackburn

People who read are a lot more tolerant than people who don't. ~ David Baldacci

You can't drag people from understanding to action. A customer isn't actually at the last mile if you're the one dragging her to the finish line. ~ Thomas P.M. Barnett

The faith itself was simple; he believed in the dignity of man. His ancestors were Huguenots, refugees of a chained and bloody Europe. He had learned their stories in the cradle. He had grown up believing in America and the individual and it was a stronger faith than his faith in God. This was the land where no man had to bow. In this place at last a man could stand up free of the past, free of tradition and blood ties and the curse of royalty and become what he wished to become. This was the first place on earth where the man mattered more than the state. True freedom had begun here and it would spread eventually over all the earth. But it had begun HERE. The fact of slavery upon this incredibly beautiful new clean earth was appalling, but more even than that was the horror of old Europe, the curse of nobility, which the South was transplanting to new soil. They were forming a new aristocracy, a new breed of glittering men, and Chamberlain had come to crush it. But he was fighting for the dignity of man and i that way he was fighting for himself. If men were equal in America, all the former Poles and English and Czechs and blacks, then they were equal everywhere, and there was really no such thing as foreigner; there were only free men and slaves. And so it was not even patriotism but a new faith. The Frenchman may fight for France, but the American fights for mankind, for freedom; for the people, not the land. ~ Michael Shaara

It is unknowable how long that conflict [the war in Iraq] will last. It could last six days, six weeks. I doubt six months. ~ Donald Rumsfeld

Then allow me to finish it. Categorically. I am happy for you to pursue all the adventure you like. Here. In this house. Under this roof. Drink until you can no longer stand. Curse like a dockside sailor. Set your embroidery aflame, for God's sake. But, as your elder brother, the head of the family, and the earl," he stressed the last words, "I forbid you from frequenting taverns, public houses, or other establishments of vice. ~ Sarah MacLean

Young men have strong passions and tend to gratify them indiscriminately. Of the bodily desires, it is the sexual by which they are most swayed and in which they show absence of control ... They are changeable and fickle in their desires which are violent while they last, but quickly over: their impulses are keen but not deep rooted. ~ Aristotle.

The Allied governments, for example, with the British as executors, maintained in place the food blockade of Germany that had been in effect since 1917. A British authority would note that "in the last two years of the war, nearly 800,000 noncombatants died in Germany from starvation or diseases attributed to undernourishment. The biggest mortality was among children between the ages of 5 and 1 5, where the death rate increased by 55 percent. . . a whole generation [the one which had been born and lived during Hitler's rise to power] grew up in an epoch of undernourishment and misery such as we [British] have never in this country experienced."3 A distinguished American authority on United States foreign policy in the first half of the twentieth century, Stanford University professor Thomas A. Bailey, noted that "the Allied slow starvation of Germany's civilian population was quiet, unspectacular, and censored."4 The Englishman Gilbert Murray, writing in 1933, noted that future historians would probably regard the establishment and continuation of the blockade as one of those many acts of almost incredible inhumanity which made World War I conspicuous in history.
-- Hitler: Beyond Evil and Tyranny, p. 122 ~ Russel H.S. Stolfi

Maybe you've had skin next to your skin, but when was the last time you let yourself be touched? ~ Tom Spanbauer

I'm so very grateful that my life was so brutally and completely torn down so that it could be rebuilt from its foundation in a more meaningful way.
I'm getting the feeling that another life tear down is coming, to be rebuilt once again in an even more meaningful way than the last time. I'm so very grateful for such an indestructible foundation that is ALWAYS prepared to support whatever good thing is built upon it. ~ Raymond D. Longoria Jr.

Humans like stories. Humans need stories. Stories are good. Stories work. Story clarifies and captures the essence of the human spirit. Story, in all its forms - of life, of love, of knowledge - has traced the upward surge of mankind. And story, you mark my words, will be with the last human to draw breath. ~ Jasper Fforde

Mozart, the last chord of a centuries-old great European taste. ~ Friedrich Nietzsche

When somebody says, "The last thing I want to do is hurt you," it means they've got other things to do first. ~ Mark Schiff

The passions may rage furiously, like true heathens, as they are; and the desires may imagine all sorts of vain things: but judgement shall still have the last word in every argument, and the casting vote in every decision. ~ Charlotte Bronte

Writing is draining. Every word is like lifting a stone and levering it into place. Your head aches, your muscles ache and every word you conjure up is heavier than the last one. ~ Chloe Thurlow

There is a line in Verlaine I shall not recall again,
There is a street close by forbidden to my feet,
There's a mirror that's seen me for the very last time,
There is a door that I have locked till the end of the world.
Among the books in my library (I have them before me)
There are some that I shall never open now.
This summer I complete my fiftieth year;
Death is gnawing at me ceaselessly. ~ Jorge Luis Borges

I want to say that one day you and your husband will fight about missed flights, and you'll find yourself wistful for the days when you had to pay for only your own mistakes. I want to say that at various points in your marriage, may it last forever, you will look at this person and feel only rage. You will gaze at this man you once adored and think, It sure would be nice to have this whole place to myself. ~ Ada Calhoun

Armies perfect the art of fighting the last war just in time for the next one. ~ Max Brooks

If my twelve-year-old self, of whom I had grown rather fond, thinking about him, were to reproach me: 'Why have you grown up such a dull dog, when I gave you such a good start? Why have you spent your time in dusty libraries, catologuing other people's books instead of writing your own? What had become of the Ram, the Bull and the Lion, the example I gave you to emulate? Where above all is the Virgin, with her shining face and curling tresses, whom I entrusted to you'- what should I say?

I should have an answer ready. 'Well, it was you who let me down, and I will tell you how. You flew too near to the sun, and you were scorched. This cindery creature is what you made me.'

To which he might reply: 'But you have had half a century to get over it! Half a century, half the twentieth century, that glorious epoch, that golden age that I bequeathed to you!'

'Has the twentieth century,' I should ask, 'done so much better than I have? When you leave this room, which I admit is dull and cheerless, and take the last bus to your home in the past, if you haven't missed it - ask yourself whether you found everything so radiant as you imagined it. Ask yourself whether it has fulfilled your hopes. You were vanquished, Colston, you were vanquished, and so was your century, your precious century that you hoped so much of. ~ L.P. Hartley

First, you do a piece of material that begins and ends and has a flow; it's not chopped up as in a film, where in an extreme case you might be doing the last scene of the script the first day that you go to work, and you don't know enough about the character you're playing. ~ Jean Stapleton

The boar, the stag, and the eagle met on the last craggy peak of the world, look down, and sighed at what they saw. The boar was a king, and he said, "There is not enough people." The stag was a poet, and he said, "There is not enough beauty." The eagle was a cleric, and her said, "There is not enough mystery." Then the wolf, arriving late, looked up instead of down and said, "There is not enough hunger," and promptly ate them all.
If the boar was king, the stag was poet, and the eagle was cleric, then what was the wolf? ~ Shannon Hale

Whenever we could steal a few minutes alone, that's when we became the "other", the charged-up thing that kept me up at night, afraid of falling so fast, afraid of losing, afraid it wouldn't last once everyone found out. We stole too-short kisses in the front hallway, shared knowing and devious looks across the table when we weren't being watched. We snuck out every night behind the house to watch for shooting stars and whisper about life, our favorite books, about the meaning of songs. It wasn't the topics themselves that changed, we had talked about all of those things befores. But now, there was a new intensity, an urgency to know as much as we could, to fit as much as possible into our final nights, before somebody found out. ~ Sarah Ockler

You know, I'm really trying to cut down on this stuff. But..." Peabody ripped into the pack of cookies. "Thing is, weird, McNab doesn't think I'm chubby. And when a guy sees you naked, he knows where the extra layers are."

"Peabody, do you have some delusion that I want to hear how McNab sees you naked?"

She crunched into a cookie. "I'm just saying. Anyway, you know we have sex, so you've probably reached the conclusion we're naked when we're having it. You being an ace detective and all."

"Peabody, in the chain of command, you may, on rare occasions and due to my astonishing good nature, respond to sarcasm with sarcasm. You are not permitted to lead with it. Give me a damn cookie."

"They're coconut crunchies. You hate coconut."

"Then why did you buy coconut?"

"To piss you off." Grinning now, Peabody pulled another pack of cookies from her bag. "Then I bought chocolate chip, just for you."

"Well, hand them over then."

"Okay, so ..." Peabody ripped open the second pack, offered Eve a cookie. "Anyway, McNab's got a little, bitty butt, and hardly any shoulders. Still -- "

"Stop. Stop right there. If I get an image of a naked McNab in my head, you're going back to traffic detail."

Peabody munched, hummed, waited.

"Damn it! There he is."

Hooting with laughter, Peabody polished off the last cookie. "Sorry. Dallas, I'm sorry. I couldn't help it. Kinda c ~ J.D. Robb

In entrepreneurship, you decide to give up your day job at the point where either (A) the hobby/new business is at least making some form of ends meet, or (B) you feel that you need to dedicate yourself for a certain amount of time to it and give yourself the last hoorah. ~ Daymond John

My roommate has a gerbil," Ryan said, grinning. "The little guy got loose and crapped all over my bed. It's just been a crazy day."
Nodding at his silly story, I heard a familiar voice. "That's fucking fascinating," Judd said from behind me. "Then, what happened?"
Judd was stalking me apparently.
He pulled a chair to the table. "What are we having for dinner?"
"Who are you exactly?" Ryan asked.
"Tawny's man. I don't do names or handshakes, so save it, kid."
When Ryan looked at me for help, I shook my head. "I have no control over him. If I did, he wouldn't be here."
"Oh, don't be like that," Judd said, caressing the back of my hair. "I like that sweater on you. Very autumn. Looks good with your eyes."
"Please, go away."
"I can't. I'm your ride tonight."
"Should I leave?" Ryan asked.
Judd glanced at my date. "Just catch onto that, did you?"
Ryan stood up. "See you around, Tawny."
"Can't you stay and ignore him?"
Judd's eyes narrowed. "No, he can't."
"We can still talk," I said, praying Ryan would stay. "He might leave if we treat him like static in the background."
Ryan considered staying until Judd's amused expression faded. "She's not fucking you, if that's what you're holding out for. In fact, you ain't even getting a goodnight kiss. Well, unless you want that to be the last thing your lips ever do before I rip them off your face."
"I'm going to leave," Ryan said, giving me ~ Bijou Hunter

She wants to jig and amble, she wants to lisp, she wants to suck the last slurp of essence out of his almost-voided cranium. Avaunt, wanton! ~ Margaret Atwood

What has happened in the last generation is that Tijuana has become a new Third World capital - much to the chagrin of Mexico City, which is more and more aware of how little it controls Tijuana politically and culturally. In addition to whorehouses and discos, Tijuana now has Korean factories and Japanese industrialists and Central American refugees, and a new Mexican bourgeoisie that takes its lessons from cable television. ~ Richard Rodriguez

He spent the last second of his life screaming, as the force of Bortan's leap pulped him against the ground, before his head was snatched from his shoulders.
My hellhound had arrived. ~ Roger Zelazny

You are not your past. You are the warrior that rose above it to become the example of someone who didn't survive, but thrived in creating the most beautiful last chapter of their life. ~ Shannon L. Alder

My kids download 10 games. They play them all for two minutes. They throw away the eight they don't like. Then they play those last two obsessively for a month. That's alien to those of us who buy a $60 game and play it for 40 or 50 hours. The discovery mechanism is completely social, and I don't think you get that genie back in the bottle. ~ Mitch Lasky

And he kisses her like she's the first, last and only thing he'll ever need, like he's learning every last part of her. ~ Amie Kaufman

I am a wheel. As I rise, Sweetheart, I carry you along with me, a heady, dizzying spin toward the sweet oceans of eternity. On wings of flames we sink into the sea of love. May be burn forever like bees in honey. Who does not wish for that delirium to last forever? ~ Rikki Ducornet

I have known nothing the last thirty years save the struggle for human rights on this continent. If it had been a class of men whowere disfranchised and denied their legal rights, I believe I should have devoted my life precisely as I have done in behalf of my own sex. ~ Susan B. Anthony

At last Fingon stood alone with his guard dead about him; and he fought with Gothmog, until another Balrog came behind and cast a thong of fire about him. Then Gothmog hewed him with his black axe, and a white flame sprang up from the helm of Fingon as it was cloven. Thus fell the High King of the Noldor; and they beat him into the dust with their maces; and his banner, blue and silver, they trod into the mire of his blood. ~ J.R.R. Tolkien

Her last call, at midnight, had been the worst. "I'll pull your cock out of your asshole," she'd said, and for some reason her voice at that moment had reminded him of his mother's. ~ Bentley Little

So my sister dances and the dead house burns, and I scrawl these few last words by the light of its burning. I know I should toss this story, too, on those flames. But I am still too much a storyteller -or at least a storykeeper-still too much my father's daughter to burn these pages. ~ Jean Hegland

She drummed her fingers on the arms of the throne, looking out at the empty room. She was not stupid enough to think men would stop trying to take it from her. They would always be there, waiting for weakness, waiting for her to fall. They wanted what she had because she had it. And one day, eventually, someone would defeat her. But until that day she would fight with tooth and nail, with all the fire and blood that had formed her into who she was. She was a dragon. She was a prince. She was a woman. It was the last that scared them most of all. ~ Kiersten White

The last time I thought I was going to die, my life flashed before my eyes. I have always hated reruns on TV, so this time I just raised my arms and said "Do your worst. ~ John Lenahan