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W Quotes

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All W Quotes

“William Roper: “So, now you give the Devil the benefit of law!” Sir Thomas More: “Yes! What would you do? Cut a great road through the law to get after the Devil?” William Roper: “Yes, I'd cut down every law in England to do that!” Sir Thomas More: “Oh? And when the last law was down, and the Devil turned 'round on you, where would you hide, Roper, the laws all being flat? This country is planted thick with laws, from coast to coast, Man's laws, not God's! And if you cut them down, and you're just the man to do it, do you really think you could stand upright in the winds that would blow then? Yes, I'd give the Devil benefit of law, for my own safety's sake!”

“William Saroyan wrote a great play on this theme, that purity of heart is the one success worth having. "In the time of your life--live!" That time is short and it doesn't return again. It is slipping away while I write this and while you read it, and the monosyllable of the clock is Loss, loss, loss, unless you devote your heart to its opposition.”

“William sees it all happen again. The pain is not in the event. The subjection to it and his powerless state each time is where his anguish lies. He is unable to influence the situation, despite his desire. He sees the nest outside his house. He sees the baby bird that fell. The mother bird cries frantically for her lost chick. William knows as he approaches the chick that if he touches it his scent will linger, and the mother will reject it. Circling around the fallen creature William hopes it will flee from him, back toward the tree from which it had fallen. His presence only intensifies the creature’s fear. It speeds to his left, heading for the street. Again William tries to flank the bird, but it is too frightened to return to the nest. The chick’s mother wails vainly. William walks into the street trying to herd the bird to safety. The stop light a block away has just turned green. The driver accelerates. William moves from the car’s path and it runs over the bird. The momentum from its wake lifts the bird to the underside of the car, breaking its neck, but not killing it. William watches the bird roll helplessly. It is silent for a second, before it begins to whimper. Its contorted head dangles limply from its body. The noise is tragic. The bird’s mother hears the chick’s pain, but nothing can be done. She laments. A second speeder crushes the chick, leaving only a wet feathered spot in the street. As the cars continue to pass, only one bird is heard. A mother’s grief falls deafly on an unconcerned world.”

“William Shakespeare was the most remarkable storyteller that the world has ever known. Homer told of adventure and men at war, Sophocles and Tolstoy told of tragedies and of people in trouble. Terence and Mark Twain told cosmic stories, Dickens told melodramatic ones, Plutarch told histories and Hans Christian Andersen told fairy tales. But Shakespeare told every kind of story – comedy, tragedy, history, melodrama, adventure, love stories and fairy tales – and each of them so well that they have become immortal. In all the world of storytelling he has become the greatest name.”

“William Stoner entered the University of Missouri as a freshman in the year 1910, at the age of nineteen. Eight years later, during the height of World War I, he received his Doctor of Philosophy degree and accepted an instructorship at the same University, where he taught until his death in 1956. He did not rise above the rank of assistant professor, and few students remembered him with any sharpness after they had taken his courses. When he died his colleagues made a memorial contribution of a medieval manuscript to the University library. This manuscript may still be found in the Rare Books Collection, bearing the inscription: 'Presented to the Library of the University of Missouri, in memory of William Stoner, Department of English. By his colleagues.' An occasional student who comes upon the name may wonder idly who William Stoner was, but he seldom pursues his curiosity beyond a casual questions. Stoner's colleagues, who held him in no particular esteem when he was alive, speak of him rarely now; to the older ones, his name is a reminder of the end that awaits them all, and to the younger ones it is merely a sound which evokes no sense of the past and no identity with which they can associate themselves or their careers.”

“William strode to her. That’s how it’s done. Drink it in. She surveyed the carnage behind him. “Did you have fun?” He showed her his teeth. “Yes. Now they won’t take you anywhere.” Cerise stepped closer to him, so close he only needed to lean in and dip his head and he would kiss her. Since he saved her, maybe he could just grab her and— “That was the stupidest thing you have done since I’ve met you,” she ground out through her teeth. Belay the grabbing.”

“William waved his hand, telling her, “Your turn. Let’s hear a sexual fantasy.” She thought for a moment. Eyes going dreamy, setting off all kinds of warning bells inside his head, she said, “I picture a strong, gorgeous man. He’s dressed, but not for long. He strips. I watch.” William’s mouth went dry. The warning bells? Forgotten. “And then?” She purred with pure, sexual carnality, nearly unmanning him. “He strips me, too, and...does a load of laundry, washing our dirty clothes. Oh, yeah. Oh, baby.”

“William: What are you looking for in a woman? Reyes: I’ve found my angel, Danika. She’s all I need. William: Really? That’s, like, weird to me. Men should need many girls. No one girl should be so important. Reyes: How sad for you. William: I’m not sad. You’re sad! Reyes: Why are you so defensive about this? William: Let’s move on. Favorite outfit? Reyes: First, you said girls rather than women. Why is that, I wonder? Because you care about one girl in particular? Anyway, clothes are clothes. I don’t have any favorites. William: Go to hell. I care about no one and I’m proud to admit that! Favorite moment in the series so far? Reyes: The first time Danika looked at me with trust and acceptance in her eyes. I’m still reeling. William: And just so you know, girl was a slip of the tongue. Now. Least favorite moment in the series? Reyes: Every time I had to kill Maddox. William: Really? That would have been my favorite. Anyway, hobbies? Reyes: Do you really have to ask? Yes? Fine. Cutting myself. I’ve started to draw shapes. Like hearts. William: You actually admitted that aloud. [snicker] [..] Reyes: Happy for the first time in what seems an eternity. William: Not that you deserve it. Really, I didn’t say girl for any particular reason. So what do you think of the fact that your home has been invaded by women? Reyes: As long as I have Danika, I don’t care who lives with us. William: Who do you think is the smartest Lord? Reyes: Me. Look who I picked to spend eternity with. William: I think you’re the dumbest! Seriously, girl was meant to encompass everyone old enough to be bedded by me. Now, if you knew you only had twenty-four hours before the Hunters found Pandora’s box and killed you, what would you do in the time you had left to live? Reyes: Not even death can keep me away from my angel. I would find a way to change such a fate. Again. William: What kind of underwear are you wearing? Note from William: Bastard flipped me off and left. Final thoughts from William: Reyes’s thoughts about me and my slip of the tongue were ridiculous and unfounded!”

“William Wilberforce...w as a great man who impacted the Western world as few others have done. Blessed with brains, charm, influence and initiative, much wealth ... he put evangelism on Britain's map as a power for social change, first by overthrowing the slave trade almost single-handed and then by generating a stream of societies for doing good and reducing evil in public life... To forget such men is foolish.”

“William: I just had the best idea ever. Let's give Maddox a ring. Paris: You mean propose to him? To grumpy ole Maddox? Willie, why didn't you tell us you're a masochist, who swung that way? You're so delicate, he'll rip you to shreds the moment you climb into his bed. Plus, he's hitched himself to Ashlyn. You try to lay a move on him, and that sweet thang will rearrange your face. William: I mean call him, you idiot. What's with you tonight? Permanent brain damage? We'll breath heavily and ask him what he's wearing. I bet no one's phone sexed him before.”

“William: You're just gonna have to take who I give you and deal Paris: Like anyone would pick you over me. William: You just wait and see. I'll have every single on of them eating out of my hand. Paris: Only if you had one of those delicious fried Twinkies. Strider rolled his eyes. Egotistical morons. Anyone with a set of eyes could see that Strider was the pretty one in their little three-some.”

“Williams and others have also noticed that high openness appears strongly related to the ability to recover from stressful events. So what does it mean to be “open”? The trait is broadly characterized as comfort with novelty and desire for “cognitive exploration.” To measure it, psychologists use the extensive five-trait questionnaire called the NEO (the abbreviation stands for the first three categories: neuroticism, extraversion, openness). The openness category breaks down into five clusters of questions designed to gauge imagination and fantasy, adventurousness, attentiveness to inner feelings, tolerance of others’ viewpoints and ideas, and ability to appreciate and be moved by aesthetic experiences. People scoring high on openness really feel things, and they’re tuned in to how they’re feeling them.”

“Williams Flower & Gift, Gig Harbor is a local florist providing same-day flower delivery in Washington. Their floral shop has been actively serving the city of Gig Harbor for more than thirty years, designing floral bouquets for all types of events. For more information, Please contact Williams Flower & Gift - Gig Harbor 7706 Pioneer Way Gig Harbor WA 98335 (253) 851-7673”

“Williams, having awarded Orwell the title of exile, immediately replaces it with the description ‘vagrant’. A vagrant will, for example, not be reassured or comforted by Williams’s not-very-consoling insistence that '"totalitarian" describes a certain kind of repressive social control, but, also, any real society, any adequate community, is necessarily a totality. To belong to a community is to be a part of a whole, and, necessarily, to accept, while helping to define, its disciplines.’ In other words, Williams is inviting Orwell and all of us to step back inside the whale! Remember your roots, observe the customs of the tribe, recognise your responsibilities. The life of the vagrant or exile is unwholesome, even dangerous or deluded. The warmth of the family and the people is there for you; so is the life of the ‘movement.’ If you must criticize, do so from within and make sure that your criticisms are constructive. This rather peculiar attempt to bring Orwell back into the fold is reinforced by this extraordinary sentence: ‘The principle he chose was socialism, and Homage to Catalonia is still a moving book (quite apart from the political controversy it involves) because it is a record of the most deliberate attempt he ever made to become part of a believing community.’ I leave it to any reader of those pages to find evidence for such a proposition; it is true that Orwell was very moved by the Catalan struggle and by the friends he made in the course of it. But he wasn’t exactly deracinated before he went, and the ‘believing community’ of which, in the aftermath, he formed a part was a community of revolutionary sympathisers who had felt the shared experience of betrayal at the hands of Stalin. And of Stalin’s ‘community’, at that epoch, Williams formed an organic part. Nor, by the time he wrote Culture and Society, had he entirely separated from it.”

“Williams looks up in surprise. “So, she died yesterday, early morning, before sunrise?” He questions the lieutenant. Jenkins nods, a look of disdain on her face. “You’ve been right all along. Consistent pattern. Too consistent to be coincidence. It’s definitely him. Apartment looks cleaner than is realistically plausible. It’s as though no one even lived here... It’s him. He was here,” Jenkins tells him. She taps her pen on her notebook periodically as she speaks. A nervous tick. Williams notices she wants this killer caught just as much as he does. Williams nods in agreement. Being vindicated is a hollow victory. All along, he has been hoping for some monumental turn of events to prove him wrong. In his heart, he knows he will never be that lucky. But here they are, gathered around another crime scene, the truth slowly revealing itself.”

“Willibald Mattern, a German emigre in Santiago de Chile, had spun a powerful tale of Nazi resurgence. His book, UFOs: Unbekanntes Flugobjekt? Letzte Geheimwaffe des Dritten Reiches (UFOs: Unidentified flying object? Last secret weapon of the Third Reich) (1974), described how thousands of Nazi UFOs will one day fly forth from the South Pole to restore German world power against a scenario of increasing racial chaos and economic catastrophe in a final act of deliverance.”

“Willing emancipateth: that is the true doctrine of will and emancipation - so teacheth you Zarathustra. No longer willing, and no longer valuing, and no longer creating! Ah, that that great debility may ever be far from me! And also in discerning do I feel only my will's procreating and evolving delight.”