How do you think we smart we realy are? If the whole world, economic, and everything around us, is based on one thing. If you push a green button, you'll get banana. Now, you have only one button left, red one. If you push red button, you'll get nothing. If you will push too often that button, you will be hit by banana machine, or by someone behind you, standing in the line. Monkeycracy. 02.10.11
Do you press the "pause" button - the "until" button in life by saying "I can't be happy until..."? All this accomplishes is a delay in your entry into your innate state of happiness, which is independent of outer circumstances. So press the "play" button and rejoice in the now-ness of the moment!
It's a long story. Want a refill?" "No, let's start the steak. Where's the button?" "Right here." "Well, push it." "Me? You offered to cook." "Ben Caxton, I will lie here and starve before I will get up to push a button six inches from your finger" "As you wish." He pressed the button. "But don't forget who cooked dinner.
Robert A. Heinlein
A Pentagon official once said the people who would actually push the button probably have never seen a person die. He said the only hope -and it's a strange thought - is if they put the button to launch the nuclear war behind a man's heart. The President, then, with a rusty knife, would have to cut out the man's heart, kill the man, to get to the button.
J.D. cleared his throat and pushed the button on the intercom. "Uh, Payton, hi. It's J.D." Dead silence. Then another crackle. "Sorry. Not interested." Cute. But J.D. persisted. Again with the button. "I want to talk to you." Crackle. "Ever hear of a telephone, asshole?" Okay, he probably deserved that.
Publishing is not evolving. Publishing is going away. Because the word "publishing" means a cadre of professionals who are taking on the incredible difficulty and complexity and expense of making something public. That's not a job anymore. That's a button. There's a button that says "publish," and when you press it, it's done.
Part of the process of reading is constantly hitting the pause button, and now and then the rewind button, to ponder a word that's been chosen by the author as exquisitely as the filmmaker chooses an image or a sound editor chooses a sonic clue - the tolling of a bell in the distance to evoke memory, for instance.
Different levels of photography require different levels of understanding and skill. A "press the button, let George do the rest" photographer needs little or no technical knowledge of photography. A zone system photographer takes more responsibility. He visualizes before he presses the button, and afterwards calibrates for predictable print values.
A man of forty today has nothing to worry him but falling hair, inability to button the top button, failing vision, shortness of breath, a tendency of the collar to shut off all breathing, trembling of the kidneys to whatever tune the orchestra is playing, and a general sense of giddiness when the matter of rent is brought up. Forty is Life's Golden Age.
Human beings have got a lot, of good, noble impulses inside them, and most people want to be good and do more good than they do evil. Hell, we've had nuclear weapons for years and nothing's happened. That in itself seems to be a miracle. If American president pushes the button, or somebody pushes the button in Russia, or somebody pushes it in Costa Rica, they can put a big tombstone in outer space that says, "We gave it a good try." Because we have.
When you saw the movie "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button," that was Michael [Jackson]'s story write large. Born as an elderly person, Benjamin Button was, in the F. Scott Fitzgerald novel and in the film starring Brad Pitt, he dies as a newborn child. Michael Jackson's childhood was one of enormous, prodigious production.He was a child prodigy, he was a wunderkind.
Michael Eric Dyson
You and I both know, deep in your heart, you agree with me. And I will prove it with one hypothetical scenario: you are alone in a closet of your home. There's a bright red button. You can push that button and presto all Negroes and Jews and all other colored people are instantly removed from the North American continent and returned to their native countries. You'd push it, wouldn't you whitey? See? See? See? in the final analysis, you agree with me. But of course, you wouldn't do antything to bring that scenario about, or any other scenario favorable to your Race.
Frazier Glenn Miller
You and I both know, deep in your heart, you agree with me. And I will prove it with one hypothetical scenario: you are alone in a closet of your home. There`s a bright red button. You can push that button and presto all Negroes and Jews and all other colored people are instantly removed from the North American continent and returned to their native countries. You`d push it, wouldn`t you whitey? See? See? See? in the final analysis, you agree with me. But of course, you wouldn`t do antything to bring that scenario about, or any other scenario favorable to your Race.
Frazier Glenn Miller
Raffin appeared again, a floor above her, on the balconied passageway that ran past his workrooms. He leaned over the railing and called down to her. "Kat!" "What is it?" "You look lost. Have you forgotten the way to your rooms?" "I'm stalling." "How long will you be? I'd like to show you a couple of my new discoveries." "I've been told to make myself pretty for dinner." He grinned. "Well in that case, you'll be ages." His face dissolved into laughter, and she tore a button from one of her bags an hurled it at him. He squealed and dropped to the floor, and the button hit the wall right where he'd been standing. When he peeked back over the railing, she stood in the courtyard with her hands on her hips, grinning. "I missed on purpose, " she said. "Show off! Come if you have time." He waved, and turned into his rooms.