Winibrop > Winibrop's Quotes

“What else can it predict?”
Now the other jocks encircled her like a bullseye.
“Any event with data,” Holly said and really felt the need to leave. This was a set-up.
Big Bob grinned. “Like when I’ll get a date?”
Holly’s smile slid across her face. “Low probability events are hard to forecast.”
“Huh?”
Josh punched his shoulder. “She means, you are not likely to get a date.”
― Michael Grigsby, Segment of One

“David watched Sol finish the can of beans. Sol always ate fast. He overate. Since he was eight.
Sol leaned back in the wooden chair against the wall, under the window. Baby brother. Sol could have been anything he wanted to be. Nothing mathematical, nothing quantitative, of course, but anything else. A beautiful boy, a wonderful brother, they got along well.
Then when Sol turned eight years old, age of a new beginning, their mother obsessed over him, ignoring David.
Obsessed over Sol and his underwear. Over and over, a regeneration, a newness. Changed his clothes constantly, had him on her lap every minute possible. She put him in bed and tucked the covers in every night. She refused to let their father do it, so he always took care of David.
But, of course, David needed no help and Sol always needed Ruth to take care of him.
Sol was still being breast fed even when he finally went to kindergarten. Then Ruth slowly increased regular, solid food. But before bed, Sol had a nightcap, mother’s milk. Their special time. Their unique closeness took a turn from breastfeeding to something else. By the time Sol was in third grade, he was one of the fattest kids in class. Then the brothers became a real team.
Now here he was. David and Sol still together, on a mission given by the Creator. It was perfect.”
― Michael Grigsby, Segment of One

“David let go and started shouting, “The bullets! The bullets! The bullets!”
His head pounded. His ears roared.”
― Michael Grigsby, Segment of One

“Yeah,” Fred said and turned to the skinny teenager waiting on him. “Give me two bear crawlers and two chocolate eclairs.”
“I thought Mimi made you promise no donuts.”
Fred looked surprised. “This is not a donut, it’s a bear crawler. And this is not a donut, it’s an eclair.”
I rolled my eyes.”
― Michael Grigsby, Segment of One

“Hair brushed and face washed, Holly put her jeans and top on, a plain, blue, cotton shirt with cute thin stripes. She had no bra because she had no boobs. She didn’t even have her period yet. Such a little kid. The other girls talked a lot about bras and boobs and periods.”
― Michael Grigsby, Segment of One

“David sat in the teacher’s lounge. Two other shlemiels sat on the other side, getting coffee. Sports, movies, conversation. He would have to join the group.
The new assistant principal was to join them this afternoon. Just say hello. He got up and got coffee.
David held the hot coffee and pretended to drink it. Didn’t want to spill on his white shirt.
Then a tall slender woman walked in with the main campus principal, Edmond, and she looked around. Now would come the meet and greet. Fresh meat.
Edmond turned to him. “This is David Bar David, Doctor Bar David. Math.”
The thin woman reached out her hand and David shook it. “My,” she said, “such a warm hand.”
“But a cold heart,” he said.”
― Michael Grigsby, Segment of One

“I got in my car and started it up and sighed. The radio station was about to do some Bartok crap and I couldn’t stand that atonal stuff, so I flipped it off. I’d rather head back to my place in silence.”
― Michael Grigsby, Segment of One

“Yes, sir, I will,” there was a nervous edge in her voice, but now it was too late. Her session had begun.”
― Charles Dyson, A Decade of Desire: Erotic Memoirs from The Office Diaries

“Should you feel sufficiently emboldened, then let’s plan a coffee sometime soon. And see what the universe makes of the occasion.”
― Charles Dyson, A Decade of Desire: Erotic Memoirs from The Office Diaries

“NASA are idiots. They want to send canned primates to Mars!" Manfred swallows a mouthful of beer, aggressively plonks his glass on the table: "Mars is just dumb mass at the bottom of a gravity well; there isn't even a biosphere there. They should be working on uploading and solving the nanoassembly conformational problem instead. Then we could turn all the available dumb matter into computronium and use it for processing our thoughts. Long-term, it's the only way to go. The solar system is a dead loss right now – dumb all over! Just measure the MIPS per milligram. If it isn't thinking, it isn't working. We need to start with the low-mass bodies, reconfigure them for our own use. Dismantle the moon! Dismantle Mars! Build masses of free-flying nanocomputing processor nodes exchanging data via laser link, each layer running off the waste heat of the next one in. Matrioshka brains, Russian doll Dyson spheres the size of solar systems. Teach dumb matter to do the Turing boogie!”
― Charles Stross, Accelerando

“I feel like a massive wave of life just washed over me. While luck comes in many guises, winning the lottery pales into nothing compared to meeting unique people.”
― Charles Dyson, A Decade of Desire: Erotic Memoirs from The Office Diaries

“As the working day came to a close, I could only think of the prospect ahead. My mind raced, and my pulse quickened.”
― Charles Dyson, A Decade of Desire: Erotic Memoirs from The Office Diaries

“Compromise where you can. Where you can't, don't. Even if everyone is telling you that something wrong is something right. Even if the whole world is telling you to move, it is your duty to plant yourself like a tree, look them in the eye, and say 'No, you move'.”
― Christopher Markus

“I wish i could really believe that---really believe that. I'm glad the two of you met as well.”
― Sharon Carter, Love Auction: Too Risky to Love Again

“Waiting was sometimes the most proactive thing a person could do.”
― Sharon Carter Rogers, Unpretty

“Universe, not again. You can't cause another tragedy in my life.”
― Sharon Carter, Love Auction: Too Risky to Love Again

“How did your mom die?" she queried. “Her name was Megan Brimmer, and she had breast cancer. She passed away when I was twenty-three.”
― Sharon Carter, Love Auction: Too Risky to Love Again

“They aren't sure who killed the little girl's mother yet. So you should be in the clear. But they have this cop living in the building. He's a detective. The kind that sneaks around, not minding his own damn business.”
― Sharon Carter, Love Auction: Too Risky to Love Again

“True forgiveness is letting go of something and moving forward with your life. I was stuck in the past, drowning in misery.”
― Sharon Carter, Love Auction: Too Risky to Love Again

“I want you, Sage. I want to be inside you so badly," he whispered, as he ran his tongue over her ear. “I want to explore your entire body," he muttered.”
― Sharon Carter, Love Auction: Too Risky to Love Again

“Don't forget you are with him for sex only. Remove the cobwebs as Sarah suggested. Have fun like auntie said. You don't have to get to know him.”
― Sharon Carter, Love Auction: Too Risky to Love Again

“I don’t know what else to do, so I’m asking You to give me a solution.”
― Sophia R. Tyler, The Friendly Mouse

“I wanted to do for you what you did for me...” “What an answer to prayer!”
― Sophia R. Tyler, The Friendly Mouse

“I say, it sounds like some dangerous psychotic killer wrote this, and this buttoned-down schizophrenic could probably go over the edge at any moment in the working day and stalk from office to office with an Armalite AR-180 carbine gas-operated semiautomatic. My boss just looks at me. The guy, I say, is probably at home every night with a little rattail file, filing a cross into the tip of every one of his rounds. This way, when he shows up to work one morning and pumps a round into his nagging, ineffectual, petty, whining, butt-sucking, candy-ass boss, that one round will split along the filed grooves and spread open the way a dumdum bullet flowers inside you to blow a bushel load of your stinking guts out through your spine. Picture your gut chakra opening in a slow-motion explosion of sausage-casing small intestine. My boss takes the paper out from under my nose. Go ahead, I say, read some more. No really, I say, it sounds fascinating. The work of a totally diseased mind. And I smile. The little butthole-looking edges of the hole in my cheek are the same blue-black as a dog’s gums. The skin stretched tight across the swelling around my eyes feels varnished. My boss just looks at me. Let me help you, I say. I say, the fourth rule of fight club is one fight at a time. My boss looks at the rules and then looks at me. I say, the fifth rule is no shoes, no shirts in the fight. My boss looks at the rules and looks at me. Maybe, I say, this totally diseased fuck would use an Eagle Apache carbine because an Apache takes a thirty-shot mag and only weighs nine pounds. The Armalite only takes a five-round magazine. With thirty shots, our totally fucked hero could go the length of mahogany row and take out every vice-president with a cartridge left over for each director. Tyler’s words coming out of my mouth. I used to be such a nice person. I just look at my boss. My boss has blue, blue, pale cornflower blue eyes. The J and R 68 semiautomatic carbine also takes a thirty-shot mag, and it only weighs seven pounds. My boss just looks at me. It’s scary, I say. This is probably somebody he’s known for years. Probably this guy knows all about him, where he lives, and where his wife works and his kids go to school. This is exhausting, and all of a sudden very, very boring. And why does Tyler need ten copies of the fight club rules? What I don’t have to say is I know about the leather interiors that cause birth defects. I know about the counterfeit brake linings that looked good enough to pass the purchasing agent, but fail after two thousand miles. I know about the air-conditioning rheostat that gets so hot it sets fire to the maps in your glove compartment. I know how many people burn alive because of fuel-injector flashback. I’ve seen people’s legs cut off at the knee when turbochargers start exploding and send their vanes through the firewall and into the passenger compartment. I’ve been out in the field and seen the burned-up cars and seen the reports where CAUSE OF FAILURE is recorded as "unknown.” No, I say, the paper’s not mine. I take the paper between two fingers and jerk it out of his hand. The edge must slice his thumb because his hand flies to his mouth, and he’s sucking hard, eyes wide open. I crumble the paper into a ball and toss it into the trash can next to my desk. Maybe, I say, you shouldn’t be bringing me every little piece of trash you pick up.”
― Chuck Palahniuk, Fight Club

“He knew that something had to change if he was going to be able to keep his job. Mouse decided to pray and ask for help.”
― Sophia R. Tyler, The Friendly Mouse

“But when I heard that you were feeling the same way, I wanted to do something to help you.”
― Sophia R. Tyler, The Friendly Mouse

“Even though Mr. Roo had been very hard on him, Mouse felt compassion and kindness...”
― Sophia R. Tyler, The Friendly Mouse

“The condition of your soul will determine the condition of your life. Because it determines how you think, what you feel, and what you choose to do.”
― Gregory Dickow, Soul Cure: How to Heal Your Pain and Discover Your Purpose

“…what we focus on shapes the soul—the mind, the will, the emotions.”
― Gregory Dickow, Soul Cure: How to Heal Your Pain and Discover Your Purpose

“We give our mistakes too much power. Instead, see a mistake for what it is. It is not the real you… You are more valuable than the opinion others have of you.”
― Gregory Dickow, Soul Cure: How to Heal Your Pain and Discover Your Purpose