欧宝娱乐

“listen, a goad's anything that provokes or incites an enemy
---
let me have a go: cursed deamon! you have met your end! the shivering fire awaits you! i shall spread your vile essance across this hall like... um, like margarine, a very think layer of it...
---
ye-es... im not sure he'll pick up on that analogy. never mind, keep going.”
― Jonathan Stroud, Ptolemy's Gate

“When there is silence,
Give your voice.
When there is darkness,
Shine your light.
When there is desperation,
Offer hope.”
― Tim Fargo

“Life鈥檚 a brawl. You must fight for what you want.”
― Janet Skeslien Charles, The Paris Library

“Such kindness wasn't a gift but a goad, scraping against one's skin like a yoke of thorns. She would have preferred him stiff, defensive, even offensive.”
― Lauren Willig, The Betrayal of the Blood Lily

“Jimmy Murray, you are an ass,' said Aunt Ruth, angrily.

'Well, we're cousins,' agreed Cousin Jimmy pleasantly.”
― L.M. Montgomery, Emily Climbs

“Why can't you call me Alex?" I ask, my head down while I stare at the food in front of me.
"If I wanted to call you Alex, I wouldn't have bothered to name you Alejandro. Don't you like your given name?"
My muscles tense. I was named after a father who is no longer alive, leaving me the responsibility of being the designated man of the house. Alejandro, Alejandro Jr., Junior . . . it's all the same to me.
"Would it matter?" I mumble as I pick up a tortilla. I look up, trying to gauge her reaction.
Her back is to me as she cleans dishes in the sink. "No."
"Alex wants to pretend he's white," Carlos chimes in. "You can change your name, bro, but nobody'd mistake you for anythin' other than Mexicano."
"Carlos, collate la boca," I warn. I don't want to be white. I just don't want to be associated with my father.
"Por favor, you two," our mother pleads. "Enough fighting for one day."
"Mojado," Carlos sings, egging me on by calling me a wetback.
I've had enough of Carlos's mouth; he's gone too far. I stand, my chair scraping the floor. Carlos follows and steps in front of me, closing the space between us. He knows I could kick his ass. His overblown ego is gonna get him in trouble with the wrong person one of these days.
"Carlos, sit down," mi'ama orders.
"Dirty beaner," Carlos drawls at me in a fake deep accent. "Better yet, es un Ganguero."
"Carlos!" mi'ama reprimands sharply as she comes forward, but I get in between them and grab my brother's collar.
"Yeah, that's all anyone will ever think of me," I tell him. "But you keep talkin' trash and they'll think that of you, too."
"Brother, they'll think that of me anyway. Whether I want them to or not."
I release him. "You're wrong, Carlos. You can do better, be better."
"Than you?"
"Yeah, better than me and you know it," I say. "Now apologize to mi'ama for talkin' smack in front of her."
One look in my eyes and Carlos knows I'm not kidding around. "Sorry, Ma," he says, then sits back down. I don't miss his glare, though, as his ego got knocked down a peg.”
― Simone Elkeles, Perfect Chemistry

“丕匕丕 賰丕賳 賷噩亘 兀賳 賳賳丕賮爻 賮毓賱賷賳丕 亘兀賳 賳噩丿 賴丿賮 ...賵禺乇賷胤丞 鬲丐丿賷 廿賱賷 賴匕丕 丕賱賴丿賮 責!!”
― Hesham Nebr