Inspirational quotes with exclaims.
But what I would like to know," says Albert, "is whether there would not have been a war if the Kaiser had said No.""I'm sure there would," I interject, "he was against it from the first.""Well, if not him alone, then perhaps if twenty or thirty people in the world had said No.""That's probable," I agree, "but they damned well said Yes.""It's queer, when one thinks about it," goes on Kropp, "we are here to protect our fatherland. And the French are over there to protect their fatherland. Now who's in the right?""Perhaps both," say I without believing it."Yes, well now," pursues Albert, and I see that he means to drive me into a corner, "but our professors and parsons and newspapers say that we are the only ones that are right, and let's hope so;--but the French professors and parsons and newspapers say that the right is on their side, now what about that?""That I don't know," I say, "but whichever way it is there's war all the same and every month more countries coming in."Tjaden reappears. He is still quite excited and again joins the conversation, wondering just how a war gets started."Mostly by one country badly offending another," answers Albert with a slight air of superiority.Then Tjaden pretends to be obtuse. "A country? I don't follow. A mountain in Germany cannot offend a mountain in France. Or a river, or a wood, or a field of wheat.""Are you really as stupid as that, or are you just pulling my leg?" growls Kropp, "I don't mean that at all. One people offends the other--""Then I haven't any business here at all," replies Tjaden, "I don't feel myself offended.""Well, let me tell you," says Albert sourly, "it doesn't apply to tramps like you.""Then I can be going home right away," retorts Tjaden, and we all laugh, "Ach, man! he means the people as a whole, the State--" exclaims Mller."State, State"--Tjaden snaps his fingers contemptuously, "Gendarmes, police, taxes, that's your State;--if that's what you are talking about, no, thank you.""That's right," says Kat, "you've said something for once, Tjaden. State and home-country, there's a big difference.""But they go together," insists Kropp, "without the State there wouldn't be any home-country.""True, but just you consider, almost all of us are simple folk. And in France, too, the majority of men are labourers, workmen, or poor clerks. Now just why would a French blacksmith or a French shoemaker want to attack us? No, it is merely the rulers. I had never seen a Frenchman before I came here, and it will be just the same with the majority of Frenchmen as regards us. They weren't asked about it any more than we were.""Then what exactly is the war for?" asks Tjaden.Kat shrugs his shoulders. "There must be some people to whom the war is useful.""Well, I'm not one of them," grins Tjaden."Not you, nor anybody else here.""Who are they then?" persists Tjaden. "It isn't any use to the Kaiser either. He has everything he can want already.""I'm not so sure about that," contradicts Kat, "he has not had a war up till now. And every full-grown emperor requires at least one war, otherwise he would not become famous. You look in your school books.""And generals too," adds Detering, "they become famous through war.""Even more famous than emperors," adds Kat."There are other people back behind there who profit by the war, that's certain," growls Detering."I think it is more of a kind of fever," says Albert. "No one in particular wants it, and then all at once there it is. We didn't want the war, the others say the same thing--and yet half the world is in it all the same.
Alys," he exclaims happily. "I think this might work out. You're going to be excellent in getting rid of unwanted visitors.""I'm not a fucking Rottweiler," I say indignantly.
Where is your false, your treacherous, and cursed wife?""She's gone forrard to the Police Office," returns Mr Bucket. "You'll see her there, my dear.""I would like to kiss her!" exclaims Mademoiselle Hortense, panting tigress-like. "You'd bite her, I suspect," says Mr Bucket."I would!" making her eyes very large. "I would love to tear her, limb from limb.""Bless you, darling," says Mr Bucket, with the greatest composure; "I'm fully prepared to hear that. Your sex have such a surprising animosity against one another, when you do differ.
The spirit is willing but the body is weakLead us then our Savoir that we may not slumberOh Jehovah! Oh Jehovah!Thy strength we beseech to get to the endSo we may render a good account of our arduous journey to the endThe spirit is willing but the body is weakLead us then our Savoir that we may not slumberWell done, good and faithful servants you shall sayUnto they that shall be faithful with a few things in their days.Come and share your Master’s happiness you shall sayUnto they that diligently made their hay in the day.Oh Jehovah! Oh Jehovah! Grant us Thy power to be faithful in our days!The spirit is willing but the body is weak.Lead us then our Savoir that we may not slumber.Certain paths we know seem leading to your throne.But there is only one path to Thy throne we yearn to know;The path of our Lord and Savior Christ Jesus!Come to me all you who grow weary He exclaims!Easy is His yoke; lighter is His burden! Our hearts and minds; our burden!The spirit is willing but the body is weak.Lead us then our Savoir that we may not slumber.The end draws nearer and nearer as we take steps to the end.Many are the things we need to do before we get to the end.But many are the things that take our attention as we journey to the end.A heart of understanding oh Jehovah we beseech;that we may do all things pleasant to Thee with understanding.The spirit is willing but the body is weak.Lead us then our Savoir that we may not slumber.
What one means by integrity, in the case of the novelist, is the conviction that he gives one that this is the truth. . . . When one so exposes it [integrity] and sees it come to life one exclaims in rapture, But this is what I have always felt and known and desired! And one boils over with excitement, and, shutting the book even with a kind of reverence as if it were something very precious, a stand-by to return to as long as one lives, one puts it back on the shelf.
I try not to look obvious as I wait for Mom’s answer. I feel as if I am on the edge of a knife, my feet being sliced by the blade, teetering toward one side or the other.“Oh, of course!” Mom exclaims, her voice trilling with laughter. “How could I have forgotten?”And now I know. Really know. This woman is not my mother. I don’t know who she is, but I know absolutely who she is not.
those glasses aren't for the sun they're for darkness, exclaims Rue. Sometimes when we harvest through the night, they'll pass out a few pairs to those of us highest in the trees. Where the torchlight doesn't reach. One time, this boy Martin, he tried to keep his pair. Hid it in his pants. They killed him on the spot. They killed a boy for taking these/ I say Yes. and everyone knew he was no danger. Martin wasn't right in the head. I mean he still acted like a three year old. He just wanted the glasses to play with, says Rue. Hearing this makes me feel like District 12 is some sort of safe haven. Of course, people keel over from starvation all the time, but I can't imagine the peacekeepers murdering a simpleminded child. There's a little girl, one of greasy sae's gradkids, who wanders around the Hob. She's not quite right but she's treated as a sort of pet. People toss her scraps and things.
our situation reminded me of a fable I had read somewhere. Chased by a tiger, a man slips and falls over the edge of a mountain. As he falls, he manages to grab a bush growing by the side of the mountain and hangs on to it for dear life. The bush is laden with wild strawberries that hang tantalizingly near his mouth. As the tiger snarls above his head and a gorge stretches beneath his dangling feet, the man takes a bite from a luscious berry. ‘How sweet,’ he exclaims as he relishes its taste.I do not remember the moral attached to the fable. It might have been a commentary on the ephemeral nature of life, on how foolish it is to imagine that there is happiness to be found in the world when death is certain and likely to happen at any time. Or it might have been an exhortation to seize the day and squeeze the most out of every moment, for, in any case, we areall going to die. It might have made a reasonably good ad for strawberries, which were so good that you simply had to eat them, even if it was the last thing you did.
Okay. Now my skin is really prickling. I've read all the Harry Potter books, all five of them. I don't remember any half-blood prince."What's this?" Trying to sound casual, I point at the ad, "What's Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince?""That's the latest book," Garth the other trainee, says. "It came out ages ago."I can't help gasping. "There's a sixth Harry Potter?""There's a seventh out soon!" Diana steps forward eagerly. "And guess what happens at the end of book six-""Shh!" exclaims Nicole, the other nurse. "Don't tell her!
Why are you staring at my boobs? My face is up here,” Trudy exclaims.Jack, the hotel employees, and I jump back like we’ve been electrocuted while the seniors don’t skip a beat. No. She. Didn’t. These geriatric devils are so bad.
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