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“Poke had never shared out so many raisins, because she had never had so many to share. But the little kids wouldn't understand that. They'd think, Poke gave us garbage, and Achilles gave us raisins. That's because they were stupid.”
Orson Scott Card“All great programmers learn the same way. They poke the box. They code something and see what the computer does. They change it and see what the computer does. They repeat the process again and again until they figure out how the box works.”
Seth Godin, Poke the Box“Aw, Poke, you poor, kind, decent, stupid girl. You saved me and I let you down.”
Orson Scott Card, Ender's Shadow“But they get some comfort out of the made up stories. And if that helps them get along maybe I should not poke fun.”
Kaye Gibbons, Ellen Foster“I decide that we could always indulge ourselves later. First, I had a soul-eating stone of power to poke with a stick.”
Lisa Shearin, Magic Lost, Trouble Found“I had a stunt double for 'The Bronze.' She's literally the most amazing human being I've ever seen. She's NCAA women's gymnastics champion. She was incredible. I would poke her thighs, and my nail would break because it was like poking a rock.”
Haley Lu Richardson“Achilles might be a good papa to the family, but he was also a killer, and he never forgives.Poke knew that, though. Bean warned her, and she knew it, but she chose Achilles for their papa anyway. Chose him and then died for it. She was like that Jesus that Helga preached about in her kitchen while they ate. She died for her people. And Achilles, he was like God. He made people pay for their sins no matter what they did.The important thing is, stay on the good side of God. That's what Helga teaches, isn't it? Stay right with God.I'll stay right with Achilles. I'll honor my papa, that's for sure, so I can stay alive until I'm old enough to go out on my own.”
Orson Scott Card, Ender's Shadow“Grace is waiting for you. It’s always there. It’s always waiting. It doesn’t pokes holes into our lives. We are the ones who poke the holes and let the light in, let the magic in. But there’s no rush. There are no deadlines. There’s comfort in staying in our cocoons. Only when we lose that comfort and feel overwhelmed do we feel forced to reach up for something greater. Or, we simply feel the calling for more. Either way, we start living on God’s timetable and awaken to the beautiful mystery, and the things we had clinged to the most fade into pale substitutes.”
Elizabeth Fox Brewer, The Hunger for Home: The Map of My Journey, with Space for Yours“You said no, though,” he says, slightly muffled. “When I asked you out. That one time.”“Wait, what?”“That time at work? I asked you to the movies, and you said you would invite Vera?”I pull back a bit. “That wasn’t—you weren’t asking me out. You said I could come, too, if I wanted. That’s not asking someone out.”“It was to me,” he says, sheepish, and I want to poke him, but I also kind of want to hug him forever.“Next time you want to ask someone out, maybe be less subtle. Maybe try to use the word date or together. Maybe phrase it as an actual question, you know, get some upward inflection going at the end of the sentence?”He just looks at me, a little bit like he wants to poke me, but maybe also hug me forever. Instead he just kisses me, and it’s a long time before we break apart again.”
Emma Mills“...a kid, maybe eight years old, ran up and poked her in the ribs with a plastic laser weapon, making electric zinging noises as he repeatedly pulled the trigger. “You’re dead,” he said victoriously. His mother came hurrying up, looking harassed and helpless. “Damian, stop that!” She gave him a smile that was little more than a grimace. “Don’t bother the nice people.” “Shut up,” he said rudely. “Can’t you see they’re Terrons from Vaniot.”The kid poked her in the ribs again. “Ouch!” He made those zinging noises again, taking great pleasure in her discomfort. She plastered a big smile on her face and leaned down closer to precious Damian, then cooed in her most alienlike voice, “Oh, look, a little earthling.” She straightened and gave Sam a commanding look. “Kill it.” Damian’s mouth fell open. His eyes went as round as quarters as he took in the big pistol on Sam’s belt. From his open mouth began to issue a series of shrill noises that sounded like a fire alarm. Sam cursed under his breath, grabbed Jaine by the arm, and began tugging her at a half-trot toward the front of the store. She managed to snag her purse from the buggy as she went past. “Hey, my groceries!” she protested. “You can spend another three minutes in here tomorrow and get them,” he said with pent-up violence. “Right now I’m trying to keep you from getting arrested.”“For what?” she asked indignantly as he dragged her out of the automatic doors. People were turning to look at them, but most were following the sounds of Damian’s shrieks to aisle seven. “How about threatening to kill that brat and causing a riot?” “I didn’t threaten to loll him! I just ordered you to.”
Linda Howard, Mr. Perfect