Ekler: works/worked/work·ing Türü:
çalışmak, iş yapmak;
emek sarfetmek, uğraşmak, meşgul olmak;
vazifeli olmak, memuriyeti olmak;
başarılı olmak, iyi netice vermek;
etkilemek, tesir etmek;
çözmek, halletmek. i.
iş, çalışma, meşguliyet;
sevap kazanılacak iş.
(sonek)... işi, -den yapılmış.
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- "I'm supposed to look like a clammer. This is what clammers wear." He was dressed in jeans and a heavy blue work shirt opened at the collar to expose the top of a green t-shirt.
- ‘Do you think I would continue to work at Riverview if I had a choice? Not at all. That job is a means to an end. As soon as I have enough money saved up, I’ll leave Riverview and enrol at the university.’
- This completed our lab list: total cost, including the chemicals and biological materials needed, was 3,500 Euros and 51 cents. It's a lot of money, but splitting the cost between us, we paid less for a working lab than the cost of an Apple laptop each.
- I think the Brothers worked on the Marble Edward damaged, not just to repair it but to study how it was made. It was the only one laid open for inspection and no chances could be taken with the others. Edward’s accident let the Brothers see into it. I believe the Brothers also had a problem matching materials: yet their patience lasted years, for years they sought to copy them. They were still reluctant to return the complete set when Edward came of full age.
- "I don’t know a lot about it, Chuck. My friend’s been kind of cagey. You know legal privilege and all. My friend was in Oregon with David a few years ago and has been out there again recently. There’s some work with the legislature or some lobbying group. I can try to find out more. I’ll let you know."
- History seems to assume that this force is self-evident and known to everyone. But in spite of every desire to regard it as known, anyone reading many historical works cannot help doubting whether this new force, so variously understood by the historians themselves, is really quite well known to everybody.
- "I hate to be the one to run, but I have to do some leg work before the night is over." Trall said as he headed for the door. "Talon, the chain mail is being worked on as we speak."
- "So, you'd like to, what, invest in the company?" he asked a little nervously. "Normally we'd go thru Payroll. I'm sure we can work out the details quietly." There was a commotion in a dark corner of the club, distracting him. "As stockholders you'll want a tour, of course."
- He had been lucky. Most everyone present on the scene must have been worked over to one degree or another. Even, apparently, the dignitaries attending to take part in the ceremony. But there were dignitaries and dignitaries. Max didn’t know if he’d ever seen a god looking quite so ill-used. Especially one venturing out in public with his head swathed in an oozing linen bandage that drooped low to cover his left eye, the remaining strands of mustache that had not been crisped off shooting away in every direction like the whiskers of a cat. Especially one favoring a leg with a locked knee and leaning on a cane, of all things.
- Several hundred meters above the camp, he spotted a corner that looked undisturbed, so he landed near them and began the process again. He worked quicker now, as other airmen flew closer. He hid whenever he knew he could be seen, but eventually they found him.
- "Hi," said Pierre, to the company in general. He turned to Spencer and shook his hand warmly. "Spencer. It's good to see you again." He had the most beautiful French voice. A voice that could sell perfume or mesmerise wolves. Spencer had once suggested to him that he could make a fortune doing radio commercials or maybe even TV, but he seemed content to work for Foxglove, to live by his expert ears rather than his excellent vocal chords. "Are you back in the city for long?"
- I found it; a slight fizz. I worked my frozen fingers into it, and nodded to Robin. He began the chant. I pulled, and the gap grew. I needed both hands to hold it open. Tania grabbed Emma's hand, and Emma seized Calum. Andrew tacked onto him, and Robin followed. His voice cracked slightly as he passed me. I hoped it wouldn't matter. Once he was through, I jumped after him, and pulled my hands away. The gap snapped shut. I ran my hands over the join, making sure it was properly closed, as Dad had taught me. For a moment or two I couldn't see; when the fog cleared, the beach wasn't the one I expected. Shingle, instead of sand, and cliffs instead of dead flat shore.
- He needed to pamper himself right now. For in the future there would be a lot of work ahead of him. Stepping aside, he allowed her to come in. He was more than ready for a morning workout as he dove into her warm, soft flesh and prepared to work up a good appetite to devour breakfast—after he indulged in her.
- Meanwhile, Jerry Cruncher and Miss Pross discover Miss Pross’s long-lost brother, Solomon, in a wine-shop. Solomon scolds his sister for making a scene over their reunion. He cannot afford to be identified because he is working as a spy for the Republic. Meanwhile, Cruncher recognizes Solomon as the witness who accused Darnay of treason during his trial in England thirteen years earlier. He struggles to remember the man’s name until Sydney Carton, who suddenly appears behind them, provides it: Barsad. Carton states that he has been in Paris for a day and has been lying low until he could be useful. He threatens to reveal Barsad’s true identity to the revolutionaries unless the spy accompanies him to Tellson’s.
- "Quite possibly," the young cleric agreed. "I shall persevere, regardless of his attitude. It's for his own good, after all." Aiden decided not to reply to that, silently pleased that at least she was able to forgive people for their flaws. The young man hoped that she would do the same for him, soon. Presently, they arrived at the smithy and stepped through the doorway. The huge blacksmith was busy arranging equipment around in preparation for further work at the forge.
- To be fair, Masterson says each state sets their own licensing rules and a graduate generally works as an assistant for one to two years. But licenses are also needed so people understand other issues like health and safety and, for barbers, the proper use of blades, he says. Some states also require hairstylists to make their education an ongoing program in order to renew their licenses after a certain amount of years. "There is a lot of passion and education to learn more about your craft," Rogers say, "but it’s up to the individual."
- Here beauty is not something natural, it is something you have to work at. Packaged travel companies have multiplied grabbing imperfect Western European and American tourists and depositing in the land of nips and tucks for good dose of economic commerce. Their obligation towards perfection is such a necessity that once a year the good doctors of plastique open up their clinics to the poor and destitute offering up charity in the form of Botox and Restylane.
- He spoke out against a proposed earmark moratorium throughout 2010, finally relenting as a new Congress began work early in 2011.
- Chore Committee A working group appointed by the Reserve Bank of India (RBI), in 1979, to review the operation of the CASH CREDIT SYSTEM, to suggest improvements in the same, as well as to propose alternative types of credit facilities in order to ensure greater discipline and a more productive use of credit. The group headed by K. B. Chore of the RBI made several recommendations including :
- "We send you out to our novice training store in Pine Trail for a couple of weeks. Ben is the manager out there. He’ll get you trained as an assistant manager. Then you can come back here to work and we’ll bump you up in pay. Sound like something you want to do?"
- The conversation around him took on a weary undertone. Rordan nodded to himself. He imagined everyones’ tired muscles and their stomachs filled with good food worked against wakefulness. His guess was the passengers would go to sleep soon. Probably after Mungo sang for them.
- "Of course," said Julio. "No one seems to have seen him for the last week or so, and nothing out of the ordinary seemed to be going on before that time. I haven’t actually knocked on his door, you understand, but I have the impression that he has holed up working on something. I left Eelmon to watch his house."
- As she lay awake in the divinely comfortable bed, Jain realized that Daniel and Joan had worked very hard to keep their poverty a secret from their children. Even when the harvest was bad they always had clean clothes that fit and the children always had food. Thinking back to the last bad harvest, Jain remembered her father spooning more food onto her plate. He had insisted that she looked too thin and needed to eat more. What had he eaten that night? What had Joan?
- Ma must have cried too as she said goodbye to her neighbors, her pink house with its pink General Electric appliances, and a life of some security, no matter how small. In South Carolina, Pa had brought home a check from the Army, and at the farm in Minnesota, he had worked part-time as a butcher, and in New Orleans, he had been paid by the owners of the horses he had trained, and later by the bank for which he had sold insurance. But now he was going to work for his dream, and dreams can't be counted on when it's time to pay your bills.
- "We were on a plane when I saved you," he stated, as if working out a math problem. "But it was falling from the sky, and that’s when I awoke."
- Mungo walked past the queues waiting for buses by the walls of Trinity College. He liked to look at people, especially at women in all their marvellous variety, and bus queues were full of wonder. A light rain was falling. In his coat pocket he clutched an appointment card for a medical referee who would decide his fitness for work. Mungo knew he would be declared fit, and knew also that there was no work - at least not regular, paid and taxed work; so that meant a move down from the luxury of getting a cheque through the letterbox to joining a queue at the dole office.
- She let the outside world flow back in. Instantly, the strange weariness that she had felt before was back, and far stronger. She felt dizzy, and nearly fell off of her chair. Her arm, though, felt wonderful. The terrible pain she'd come to live with was replaced with a gentle tingle. She pulled up the sleeve and loosened the bandage. Before her eyes the redness and swelling subsided. In moments, the debilitating injury was returned to the state it had been in when she received it. A simple, albeit severe, gash. Much to her chagrin, though, it was there that the spell seemed to stop its work.
- Life is funny sometimes. Of course it isn’t as funny as smashing your brand new Mustang convertible into your house and having your life flash before your eyes. Sitting here in my car in the middle of m den, can't help but think that things could have worked out differently - that could have been happier - that could have lived the life that wqs meant for me. That was, if I didn't have to keep up with the Greenbergs.
- "Taghs…" the General thought to himself and his instinct, as a soldier, was to ride back and inform his King. But he wanted to investigate further. Maybe this one had fought its way out, or perhaps it could have been Idimus who released them, hoping that eventually they would work their way to Grahamas. Though they would leave nothing but destruction in their wake—and it was an extreme measure—Gerin no longer believed anything was beneath the King. Such an idea was feasible except that he didn't have a key to either door. He could have asked Estechian, after Gerin left Kaldus, to release them. Roane was directly west now, Kaldus much further south. In essence, the Tagh could have easily beat him here if Idimus sent word right after he left. But Estechian was loyal, and he knew the dangers that these monsters created. They would destroy everything around them, Kaldus as well. He would not release them without Gerin's approval, despite the King's orders. That only left one other person: Estophicles. "But why…" the General wondered.
- "This has a lot to do with the changing demographics of the workforce in these states," said Ruben Garcia, a labor law professor at the University of Nevada Las Vegas. "The big campaigns in the carwash industry in L.A., the janitors in Houston and the people who work on the Strip here tend to be an immigrant Latino workforce that's willing to stand up at the workplace, sometimes with great risks."
- "Because of his music." Robin replied. "Skill in music isn't a very common gift among our people. All the Folk – fairies, we call ourselves Folk. There's the Hill Folk, that's us, and the Island Folk like our Aunt Diana, and…oh, heaps of others- we need musicians of any sort –human, fay or any of the other Peoples - because musicians help the magic work. There are other things, too. Finn's very good at logical, mathematical kind of stuff that I'm too lazy to think about, and he and I can work together and do all sorts of damage because music and logic fit together really well. If we got a designer as well…anyway Dad's a brilliant singer and he's got royal blood. He comes from an important family. The Perrys outrank the Feriers by a long way. And there are ways of making him co-operate, of harnessing his powers that I just wouldn't want to think of. I miss him. I don't want him hurt."
- "I'll do a little checking on the Nevada law today and see if I can work out an angle on this. But I'd like to talk it over with you, personally, before I leave."
- The Justice Department also accused him of attending terrorism training camps in Pakistan in 2002 and 2003, and working with the group Lashkar-e-Tayyiba to carry out terror attacks.
- As they pulled into Gallup, Todd checked his backpack three times to ensure that everything was properly packed. "Awesome," he whispered to himself as he pictured working the model later that evening in his own bedroom. "I hope it glows in the dark somehow."
- "But, see—but see!" says Toby gleefully, as his own work progresses: red-faced Sir Andrew comes toward them, clutching paper in a quavering fist.
- They did it for my father’s job. Back in the 60s and 70s, the Bay Area was just becoming a center for the innovation and technological advances that would grow into Silicon Valley. My father’s work was not directly related, but he was a manager in the production side of things, and he was drawn out for the chance to earn more money as much as anything. Living in California – which to me, looking back, was by far the better benefit – was secondary to them.
- The Major rubbed his chin, his scheming mind working through the problem. "Maybe all is not lost. I must take this man into custody. The local native liaison council will determine his fate. Maybe I can make some introductions there and you could persuade the council members to release him into your custody."
- In an attempt to conform to Humbug etiquette, I avoided my instinctual reply which was, "Well I sign the fucking cheques here, so unless you want me to write your name backwards, turn the fucking door around!" I thought for a bit and then opted for the more passive-aggressive response, "Well, I’ll call the fire marshal and ask him if a fire exit can open inwards." I hadn’t even picked up the phone when I heard a drill gun removing the screws. It was frustrating to have to think of a way of saying what I wanted to say without actually saying it – but I was glad it worked.
- In 1978, with her then-husband, Karagaitanaki opened her cafe in downtown Thessaloniki. Based on a Viennese coffee house, the small business attracted the city’s intellectuals and artists. Her younger brother, Maximus, began working there when he was 18, and eventually her two sons joined in. She divorced in 2000.
- The jokes kept coming, but he could tell it impressed them. Despite his youth, he had worked the trenches and paid his dues.
- Kell had been away two weeks but Marthe had talked to him last night, his work emerging at a pace neither could fathom, a few thousand words a day. For Kell, who plunked a paragraph in a week’s time, it was a Godsend. "Yeah, it’s coming. The words are finally coming."
- "Won’t you come back to bed, darling?" Anna said softly. She was lying on her side, her head propped up by her left arm, looking at the naked back of the man who was in front of the fireplace on the other side of the room. He was stacking up pieces of wood, working efficiently. Anna admired the play of the muscles along his back.
- I have always been a huge Robert Deniro fan, and admired his work in the film Deer Hunter a great deal. Those scenes when he was a Vietnamese prisoner-of-war and had to play Russian Roulette for his betting captives, have stayed with me for a long time.
- PC McGivens shook his head slowly, as though marveling at the previously unsuspected inanity of his daily round. "All very true, sir, but it’s procedure. worked out by some clever lad using statistics. All this, it increases our success rate. ’Sproven."
- Several more trains passed, loaded with coal. There were men working along the tracks, some dealing directly with the stagnant trains, while others carried a pick and shovel, fixing some discrepancy in the track itself. They wore thin, sleeveless undershirts and heavy, dark pants or coveralls, as they swung the pick high over their heads.
- Melanie's phone was between her legs, and the 'vibration-only' setting was greatly appreciated as her internal computer fired back up after being in screen-save mode. She slept about two hours per night, and was so wound up that she worked through most nights. Melanie let her BlackBerry buzz a few more times for pure pleasure, and then scooped it up and answer the Great Oz.
- "The trouble is that by diverting the river, they’ve deprived the prospectors downstream of water enough to work their claim. About 30 of them are bitching that hardly a trickle reaches them, not enough to work their sluice boxes. They’re talking about blowing up the reservoir to get the water flowing again. The problem with that is that the outfit is well guarded with gun-for-hire guards. I hope to hell this doesn’t turn into a shooting war."
- Coursa dressed while Jain faced the fireplace, cooking food. She had brought back meat from Sarah and Dalton’s farm and she had bread in the house. The meal was simple and hearty. Joff and Coursa both seemed different. Joff acted stronger than at any time since Jain had met him and Coursa was happy and even playful, but if the sword had worked some kind of magic then it was subtle. Coursa’s hair was still white and Joff was still thin and frail. Perhaps the magic had given Coursa back a few years and restored just a bit of Joff’s strength. Jain hoped so.
- "I thought you didn't need to breathe." Distracting my hormones through insane questions seemed a good idea. I wasn't sure if I wanted it to work or not.
- Sespian knew from their files they were all competent—they had to be to work in the Imperial Barracks—but he needed more than competence. He needed someone unlikely to have developed an allegiance to Hollowcrest. A younger man seemed best, and it would be good to have peers his own age with whom to work. Sespian hoped he was not making his choice based on personal feelings instead of logic.
- I wondered just what nerve he had hit with her, not able to recall her having told me much beyond the sort of basic dissatisfaction with her working life that I took for granted in a younger person. Daniel, meantime, was doing that silent thing of his. Kylie’s words hung in the air for us all to examine, while he sat there, absolutely expressionless.
- 1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
- For days I would lie in the corner sleeping through my work shift of starlight and moon. As daylight thundered in I would cower to furthest regions of the corner; and from the safety of my darkness I would fixate on that tile. Transfixed by its beauty and my personal hatred. This tile was my rape and I would never forget it.
- You nod and go. Who should you blame for Elverado's death? Mather as much as admitted that Dumont had him killed, but Elverado was put in Dumont's path earlier: My work here is done. Was this part of that work? Has that work gone horribly wrong? If there's a god who is all-powerful and all-knowing, shouldn't that god be blamed for every bad thing that happens?
- "Correct. At the end of the day there is a stop in the pipe leading to the pit and people go in there and collect all of the remaining waste to be burnt in the furnace the next day. There are some other details from there, but you get how it works now," he finished.
- Gort faced forward quickly, his eyes falling on the inner circle of Sharia. It was as though the population went unchanged since the last time they visited. Elves glided their way along the edge of the trees, working from their homes to the river, then to the other homes and larger stone buildings mixed within the grass huts. Lanyan was happy to return, but Gort couldn't stem the feeling of curiosity he had. They seemed so independent, so free. Yet they still did all that was required of them for their lives and society. Their plan was not obvious, their structure not blatant, and it was the furthest thing from what Gort encountered, even when he was relaxing, but he at least found a small amount of respect in their work ethic. "Are they expecting us?"
- "After graduating from Thomas Jefferson University School of Medicine in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, Dr. Gallo discovered that he couldn't bear to be around sick people, and found his niche instead in the research lab, going to work at the National Institutes of Health in Bethesda, Maryland...."
- A tall, slender man uses his shirttail to remove blood from Grandpa‘s nose and lips. "My name is Isaac," the tall man says. "You have been unconscious for almost twenty-four hours. We are headed for a work Camp and then a Death Camp if you are Jewish. Are you Jewish?"
- "Then why do you smoke?" No one in her family used tobacco, incongruous with her father’s occupation as a heart surgeon. A dirty habit, Louis Francis Souza always remarked, especially in front of Frank, who had started with pot as a young teenager. He’d abandoned that custom last year, in spring, around the time he started work at the restaurant.
- Walking into the garage Connor attired his usual dark clothing, a brown shirt and pants. He slipped on his hiking boots and walked over to his work bench. He grabbed Tool, a flint stone, a coil of rope and slid it over his shoulder. These were the only things that one truly really need to go camping for one full night out in the woods.
- Through the dust and the glare of the klieg light, she saw wall men working to carry … something. In the bad light it took her a minute to figure out what it was they were doing. There was more rubble around here than there should have been. Then a drift of blown dust passed and revealed a V-shaped chunk of the wall that just wasn't there anymore. The wall men were making a futile attempt to fill it in with sandbags.
- "Where do you think you’re going?" he asked when I got up to leave since class didn’t start for another twenty minutes. I pointed this out to him, but he insisted I stay to work on the homework I missed. I knew better than to argue with a teacher.
- "So you work from memory mostly then? That and trying to make what you see when you're in human form even more drab than what you really see?"
- He should have known this little warrior would have it in for him, but even he was cocky and stupid sometimes. Unlike most people in the City of Bone, he never felt in danger there. He hadn't since he was a boy. He was too weathered by his ventures in the Outlands, a hardened soldier, and he had seen horrors the common people had never heard of. Besides, dark grog can make a red-blooded man feel invincible, and in his case, it worked most of the time. Only one thing made him feel mightier: Brool … his war-axe.
- There were plenty of tensions in the camp already, most notably between the Northern and Southern veterans. No evening went by without some altercation, nothing major, mostly just a shouting match or a rare fist fight. Both sides were cautioned not to slow down the work or they risked expulsion. Then there were the Irish to contend with, and within the Irish themselves, Catholics against Protestants. Added to this mix were the many blacks, former slaves, who sought their freedom in the open lands of the West. There were just a few Chinese, not as many as on the western end where they made up most of the work force. Other disputes were, of course, about money; who owed what to whom. There were a few enforcers charged with settling such disagreements.
- "You’re going to have to do without me tonight. The planets are favorably lined up right now and there is work to be done," he informed her.
- The Bloomberg Markets ranking is based on predictions by almost 400 forecasters covering 11 countries plus the euro zone. The U.S. ranking looks at the work of 71 forecasters during the two years ended on Sept. 30. It measures the accuracy of economic forecasts in 13 categories, including gross domestic product, unemployment, consumer and producer price indexes, home sales, industrial production and personal spending. The euro- zone ranking measures nine categories, including GDP, inflation, unemployment, consumer sentiment and industrial production.
- Alfonso went on, "He told us he worked at different farms for twelve years as a farm laborer. He even joined the National Farmers Alliance, which is an organized group of farmers that fights for workers rights, but he still couldn’t make a decent living. He and his family are heading down to a farm west of Kansas City to work. He said out here in the west, he won’t have to compete with the cheap black laborers. He said those people would work for nothing." (In 1900, 75 million people lived in the United States, only 20 million people lived west of the Mississippi, 4 ½ million were farm laborers.)
- They dropped me back across the chair and filed out. I sat up, worked my shoulder around a bit, and worked the kidnap note out of the wood of the chair as I worked on steadying my breathing. "Thanks," I said.
- Nina’s engagement set off a fire in me that I haven’t felt in some time. If MarryJew.com could work for her, imagine what it could do for me if I became serious about getting remarried.
- Locking the door, she wondered what she should say to get back to the lab. Did she even want to go back to working for such a back stabbing weasel? She dialed.
- "Computers. worked from home, rarely went out, concealing his wings when he did. It’s amazing how easy it is to be agoraphobic in this day."
- The work is quickly done—but hardly too soon. Prospero and Ariel, both now invisible to anyone else, watch as Caliban, Stephano and Trinculo creep from the brush, dripping with green pond-slime.
- The kettle atop the pot-bellied stove was whistling drawing Billy to his feet and into the near automatic process of putting a tea bag in a mug and pouring the hot water onto it. His mind was blank unable to process what Harvey had told him. He put the pot on a metal square atop his work bench. The words of the prayer his mother taught him tumbled into his head: 'Angel of God, My Guardian Dear to whom God's love commits me here. Ever this day be at my side to light and guard and rule and guide.' "You don't do all those things, do you, Harvey, light and guard, rule and guide. You never have. You're more of a sounding board or a critic."
- "I could do that, and would like to do it. My first choice, however, would be to learn to work in the copying room. I have all my life longed to be able to read."
- The tracks driver was an evangelizing Baptist by the name of Morgan. Since he was a pacifist he objected to using a gun and preferred to drive. The only things he seemed concerned with were his new wife and his religion, both of which he talked about incessantly. Reichert never tired of goading him, but the two men worked well together. If they had nothing else in common, they at least shared one immediate goal, and that was getting home in one piece. All they wanted from the Army were their discharge papers. If in the process of their jobs, they were also promoted; well and good, but their ambitions would never drive them to sabotage each other.
- Crandall and Mrs. Wendel, the two guards and the two the-less-said-the-betters came in about ten and Rucci led them to a booth almost facing the piano. We had a nice crowd and I was working hard but I still could notice Rucci talking and waving his hands and nodding toward me. Finally Crandall and Mrs. Wendel danced and Rucci came over to the piano. He flagged them down when they pranced by and said: "Mr. Crandall! Mrs. Wendel! I want you to meet Shean Connell."
- "Now that’s interesting," said Favored, examining something off to his left. "A lot of those caged gods are trying stuff, but there’s one of them in there working to destabilize the matrix who may actually be able to do it; seems like he really has some idea of what’s going on at the subcode level. Let me check the identity tracer. Huh." He grimaced at the panel and fiddled with something at its base. "There we are, recalibrated I think. You know somebody called Iskendarian?" he said, still glowering and tweaking simultaneously.
- Dad looked them up and down and nearly had a fit. 'Cheeky pricks. Where the fuck are your work boots?' he asked them. They had Adidas basketball shoes on, new but already stained red from the dust, with the oversize tongues poking out and the laces hanging loose.
- "How about this, I have to work tomorrow night, but why don’t I come by tomorrow morning for breakfast? I’ll bring you some more goodies too. It looks like you might be stuck here for awhile, and I’m sure you could use something to do. What do you like to read? Wait, don’t tell me. I’ll just surprise you."
- Work-wise, Chance’s special project became the steam shovel and the rock crusher. Neither worked as designed and were prone to breakdowns, so he had to constantly tinker with tensions and settings before either would perform adequately. These were much used, abused machines working day and night, trying to keep up with the forward progress. Luckily the countryside they were passing through was fairly flat, requiring relatively little earth alteration. There was an odd hill to cut through, but more often it was a stream bed or washout to bridge. Wood and timber was brought in from the forests of Minnesota and Wisconsin, sand and gravel from quarries more to the south, rail and ironware from Chicago and beyond. Thus progress was determined largely by the efficiency of the transportation system.
- This is not my work room, he quickly determined. Suddenly, the door to the shed burst open and he was looking into the barrel of a terrible weapon.
- Brenda’s eyes flashed with anger and she moved close to the diminutive director. Shaw took a step back. ‘You are a pathetic little man Stewart. I’ve worked my arse of for you on 3 pictures now. I’ve put up with your moods and your closet gay ranting.’
- "Yes he is. The Professor had worked on some suggested updates for the Interface Lab and was going to walk them over, but I intercepted them before I came here. I sent them to the isolation team and they are currently working on drafting a response from Jameson. They will brief him on the surrogate contact. Aside from these infrequent attempts to interact on the Professor's part, Jameson has adhered to the no contact policy. Personally, I think the Professor was taken by the Interface Lab's research and nothing more. I believe he is trying to be friendly and social."
- While the report is less upbeat than the headline indicates, it does not show an economy losing steam. In fact, there’s strong evidence the hurricane did take a toll, even if didn’t meet the BLS’s definition of "substantive". For example, the number of workers not at work because of weather soared to 369,000 in November, Dave Greenlaw of Morgan Stanley noted, far above the 40,000 to 115,000 range for Novembers over the previous decade. Furthermore, jobless claims leapt in the weeks following the hurricane, and only last week returned to normal. This strongly suggests we’ll see some weather-related rebound in both measures of employment in December.
- Gently, he pushed on the top of the window and was grateful to see that the bottom swung easily outward. Teetering on the wobbly trashcans, he gradually worked himself under the protruding window and in through the opening. He followed the sound of voices to an office in the front of the building. The people inside must have felt secure about any intrusion because they had left the inner door of the office open.
- Hedge fund A private investment fund which uses a range of sophisticated strategies to maximise returns including hedging, leveraging and derivatives trading. Authorities around the world are working on ways to regulate them.
- By the end of the year, Blalock made partner and the firm added his name to the door. He moved from a $700,000 small brick Georgian home in a middle-class neighborhood to a $1.7 million house with a pool in one of the nicest sections of Alexandria, Virginia. His rise was no exception: Other aides who worked on the tax cuts went on to similarly successful lobbying careers.
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- There it was again, math. Things kept coming back to math. For me, math had always been a dark room and me without a match. I didn’t think I had any better grasp of mathematics now than I’d had before I’d run afoul of Max and his crew. Well, fine, I’d never wanted to be an accountant, and I’d certainly never wanted anything to do with the other major discipline that required a solid grasp of math, both abstract and applied. It was an axiom that you couldn’t do magic unless you could work the math, but that had always been just dandy with me.
- As her heartbeat slowed, Mother Peg felt faint. She had been waving her arms at the disappearing Dragons, yelling at them to bring the child back. Her stick lay beside the path. She managed to retrieve it and prop herself up on it while her aching lungs struggled to catch her breath. The Little Dragon had betrayed them. Was he working with the Great Dragons? Did they tell them to lure the two women on to the Barrens in full daylight?
- "I thought you were disturbed before, but actually you’re okay," Michel said, when Joe stopped working the keyboard for a minute.
- Her kindly face taking on a stern cast, Mrs. Alexander turned back to Alec. "I'm sure you'll enjoy working with Miss Paige, Alec. After all, you can't really expect to do everything by yourself. Occasionally a helping hand is exactly what's called for."
- I’m joking, of course. It’s no use being serious. She wouldn’t give up what she has. She’s worked hard and this is her payoff: a secure, respected job. She doesn’t understand me, and I just have to leave it at that. I know she’s feeling sorry for me, and that’s okay, because I’m feeling sorry for her, too.
- "Yes," she said. "Well, I must be going." Arthur watched her leave, wishing for a drink of water. He was fifteen years older than Penn, and Penn was a lot older than Pookie; it was absurd to be jealous. They did make a handsome couple. At least they had the one time they'd driven by in an old Porsche with the top down--Penn talking, his head turned to Pookie. He was still youthful. If anyone could manage a relationship with a big age difference it would be Penn. No doubt he worked in a hospital or a clinic surrounded by women. I forgive myself for giving her a B, Arthur thought. It should have been a C, but he had been unnecessarily cold with her in class. Let it go.
- "You let the Americans fuck you for a long time so they get used to it. Never do it too hard. Us? We wouldn't let them near us. It got them so worked up and horny they just came in one day. They held us down and fucked us so hard that we can't see straight." The drunk slammed his fist into his hand repeatedly to represent his thoughts.
- "Aloof? Detached is a better word. Stone cold, statuesque, like a painting on a wall. Is that really a way to exist? I try and have my input on peoples lives but it is always vicarious; I may work through a person but never as a person. I long to be one of those stupid, drinking, laughing slobs that grace the planet with their dirt, but I just can't seem to settle."
- God Only Knows. (ODSA) Apparently a popular healthcare diagnosis from many years ago, used especially on bank holidays/weekends, after midnight or when there was an important football match on TV. After a very quick visit to A&E the junior doctor would diagnose GOK and admit the patient to a ward, often adding LTNWIO (let the nurses work it out). Such patients not infrequently later had an ERCP. (ack ET)
- She was right to have trusted him, she thought smugly, aware that the intuitive gamble she’d taken in giving him the crystal had so far worked in her favour.
- Something else Jurtan had learned was how to think and work at the same time. While he’d been mulling Max’s plans and intentions back and forth he’d succeeded in getting the area cleaned up and the horses packed; more skills Jurtan couldn’t recall wishing he possessed. At least sitting on a horse all day was no longer a more drawn-out form of one of Max’s tortures. Jurtan was almost at a stage where he could say he felt comfortable with riding.
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