We can’t let the Monitor activate Halo. We have to stop him. We have to destroy Halo. According to my analysis of the available data, I believe the best course of action is somewhat… risky. An explosion of sufficient size will help destabilize the ring, and will cut through a number of primary systems; we need to trigger a detonation on a large scale, however. A star ship’s fusion reactors going critical would do the job. I’m going to search what’s left of the Covenant Battle-net, and see if I can locate the Pillar of Autumn’s crash-site. If the ship’s fusion reactors are still relatively intact, we can use them to destroy Halo.
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You ejected the first bullet by hand, didn’t you? I see what you were trying to do. But testing a technique you only heard about in the middle of battle wasn’t very smart. You were asking to have your gun jam on you. Besides, I don’t think you’re cut out for an automatic in the first place. You tend to twist your elbow to absorb the recoil. That’s more of a revolver technique. But that was some fancy shooting… you’re pretty good.
(this has been suggested previously.)
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I was sharing a passionate kiss with my romantic interest, when my cellular phone alerted me that someone wished to converse with me. The man on the phone inquired as to what I was engaging in with his daughter. Assuming this man was my romantic interest’s father, I explained the conversation I had to her. She informed me that her father was deceased. That is when I thought to myself, “If her father is dead, then who was conversing with me on the cellular phone?” And then a human skeletal structure appeared.
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“I’m through with this dream, I wish it to be over. Let me go back to my job, let me continue pushing the buttons, please, it’s all I want. I want my apartment, and my wife, and my job. All I want is my life exactly the way it’s always been. My life is normal, I am normal. Everything will be fine. I am okay.” Stanley began screaming. “Please someone wake me up! My name is Stanley! I have a boss! I have an office! I am real! Please just someone tell me I’m real! I must be real! I must be! Can anyone hear my voice?! Who am I? Who am I?!” And everything went black.
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I deleted my previous suggestion due to it featuring major spoilers, so here’s my replacement, edited to avoid some spoilers.
“If he had an enemy, I would say it was fear. For me, personally, he spent many years trying to get me to face my own fears. To understand how they enslaved me, how they divided me from the people that I love. He counseled me to transcend my fears, to be brave enough to forgive… and see the possibilities of being a man without fear. That was his legacy. And now it’s up to all of us to live up to it.”
I mean you call this a war? This funny little thing? This is not a war. I fought in a bigger war than you could ever imagine. I did worse things than you could ever know. And when I close my eyes, I hear more screams than anyone could ever be able to count! Do you want me to tell you where to put all that pain? You hold it tight, against your chest until it burns your heart. And then you say this: No one else should ever have to feel like this. No one else should feel this pain.
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Very nice.
“There’s this emperor, and he asks the shepherd’s boy how many seconds in eternity. And the shepherd’s boy says, ‘There’s this mountain of pure diamond. It takes an hour to climb it and an hour to go around it, and every hundred years a little bird comes and sharpens its beak on the diamond mountain. And when the entire mountain is chiseled away, the first second of eternity will have passed.’ You may think that’s a hell of a long time. Personally, I think that’s a hell of a bird.”
"Pain is easy to portray, but to use your passion and pain to portray the ecstasy and joy and magnificence of our world, no one had ever done it before. Perhaps no one ever will again. To my mind, that strange, wild man who roamed the fields of Provence was not only the world’s greatest artist, but also one of the greatest men who ever lived.”
Yo, listen up, here’s the story about a little guy that lives in a blue world and all day and all night and everything he sees is just blue like him, inside and outside blue his house with a blue little window and a blue Corvette and everything is blue for him and himself and everybody around cause he ain’t got nobody to listen.
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Destiny players, where you at? You know this one.
Whether we wanted it or not, we’ve stepped into a war with the Cabal on Mars. So let’s get to taking out their command, one by one. Valus Ta’aurc. From what I can gather, he commands the Siege Dancers from an Imperial Land Tank just outside of Rubicon. He’s well protected, but with the right team, we can punch through those defenses, take this beast out, and break their grip on Freehold.
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Hello darkness my old friend I’ve come to talk with you again because a vision softly creeping left its seeds while I was sleeping and the vision that was planted in my brain still remains within the sound of silence. In restless dreams I walked alone narrow streets of cobblestone, beneath the halo of a street lamp, I turned my collar to the cold and damp when my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light that split the night and touched the sound of silence.
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War… has changed. It’s no longer about nations, ideologies, or ethnicity. It’s an endless series of proxy battles, fought by mercenaries and machines. War, and its consumption of life has become a well-oiled machine. War has changed. ID-tagged soldiers carry ID-tagged weapons, use ID-tagged gear. Nanomachines inside their bodies enhance and regulate their abilities. Genetic control, information control, emotion control, battlefield control…everything is monitored and kept under control. War…has changed. The age of deterrence has become the age of control, all in the name of averting catastrophe from weapons of mass destruction, and he who controls the battlefield, controls history. War…has changed. When the battlefield is under total control, war becomes routine.
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When someone had died or was dying or was so ill they gave up what little hope they could sacrifice, they cut parallel lines into the cliff, exposing the white chalk beneath. With the right eyes you could see them from the mainland or the fishing boats and know to send aid or impose a cordon of protection, and wait a generation until whatever pestilence stalked the cliff paths died along with its hosts. My lines are just for this: to keep any would-be rescuers at bay. The infection is not simply of the flesh.
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From here I can see my armada. I collected all the letters I’d ever meant to send to you, if I’d have ever made it to the mainland but had instead collected at the bottom of my rucksack, and I spread them out along the lost beach. Then I took each and every one and I folded them into boats. I folded you into the creases and then, as the sun was setting, I set the fleet to sail. Shattered into twenty-one pieces, I consigned you to the Atlantic, and I sat here until I’d watched all of you sink.
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I returned home with a pocket full of stolen ash. Half of it fell out of my coat and vanished into the car’s upholstery. But the rest I carefully stowed away in a box I kept in a drawer by the side of my bed. It was never intended as a meaningful act but over the years it became a kind of talisman. I’d sit still, quite still, for hours just holding the diminishing powder in my palm and noting its smoothness. In time, we will all be worn down into granules, washed into the sea and dispersed.
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What’s this one from?
Dear Esther, all three in that succession are.
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The nue is one of the oldest yokai recorded, having its first appearance in the Kojiki (712 CE), an account of the early histories of Japan. It also appears in the Heian-period encyclopedia Wamyo Ruijusho (938 CE), and again in the Heike Monogatari (1371 CE), a record of one of Japan’s bloodiest civil wars and most tragic family clans. It has the head of a monkey, the body of a tanuki, the tail of a snake, and the limbs of a tiger. In ancient times it was thought to be a kind of nocturnal bird — it’s call is supposed to sound like that of a White’s thrush — and thus its name is written with a kanji that contains the meanings “night” and “bird.”
Knight Rider. A shadowy flight into the dangerous world of a man who does not exist. Michael Knight: a young loner on a crusade to champion the cause of the innocent, the helpless, the powerless, in a world of criminals who operate above the law.