pay

You can__ trust anyone you have to pay, and really, they can__ trust you.

A good listener is one who always pays attention, not to gain, but to learn.

Your purpose is God__ success. You can__ pay for what God want to be done. It__ God__ business; it__ his farmland, so when he said he__l provide the rain, don__ doubt it!

Do what you want to do in life and you will see what life will do to you on earth. What you always do, pays what it always pays!

Isn't it interesting how much we dislike the days that allow us to enjoy our weekends? The days that pay. If you don't like Monday's, you're not living your authentic life! You__e in the wrong job! What do you really want to do with your life_?

Environmental radiation research is the rent I pay for living on this planet.

Well, let's argue this out, Mr Blank. You, who represent Society, have the right to pay me four hundred francs a month. That's my market value, for I am an inefficient member of Society, slow in the uptake, uncertain, slightly damaged in the fray, there's no denying it. So you have the right to pay me four hundred francs a month, to lodge me in a small, dark room, to clothe me shabbily, to harass me with worry and monotony and unsatisfied longings till you get me to the point when I blush at a look, cry at a word. We can't all be happy, we can't all be rich, we can't all be lucky - and it would be so much less fun if we were. Isn't it so, Mr Blank? There must be the dark background to show up the bright colours. Some must cry so that the others may be able to laugh the more heartily.

When something means nothing to you, you can do everything you want; but someday, somehow you may have to pay for it.

With or without money, the work must be done.

It is a harsh reality that some of the most important and respectable jobs which deserve high salaries might be better off with low salaries. A politician, or a minister, or a teacher is sure to be working sincerely and selflessly for the good of the people when through and through there is little monetary reward guaranteed. This is how the charlatans are weeded out of the field.

Dreams and freedom are the same. In order for them to be, they come with a price.

When water fountains start charging to drink, then you know we have a problem.

What is a whore?"Unsurprisingly, that hadn't been one of the words we had shared over the last span of days. For half a moment I considered lying, but there was no way I could manage it. "He says your mother is a person men pay money to have sex with."Tempi turned back to the mercenary and nodded graciously. "You are very kind. I thank you.

Hi, Albert,_ Quinn called back. He seemed distracted. And Albert was sure that he__ seen Quinn motion for someone to stay down.__ow long is this supposed to go on?_ Albert asked.__ntil we get justice,_ Quinn said.__ustice? People have been waiting for justice since the dinosaurs.__uinn said nothing and Albert cursed himself for indulging in sarcasm. __hat is it you want, Quinn? I mean in practical terms.___e want Penny gone,_ Quinn said.__ can__ afford to pay you any more,_ Albert shouted back.__ didn__ say anything about money,_ Quinn said, sounding puzzled.__eah, I know: justice. Usually what people really want is money. So why don__ we get down to it?___enny,_ Quinn said. __he leaves town. She stays gone. When that happens we fish. Until it happens, we sit._ He sat down as if to emphasize his point.

Don't just bargain for success. Pay the price!

Astrid felt a towering wave of disgust. She was furious with Sam. Furious with Little Pete. Mad at the whole world around her. Sickened by everyone and everything.And mostly, she admitted, sick of herself.So desperately sick of being Astrid the Genius.__ome genius,_ she muttered. The town council, headed by that blond girl, what was her name? Oh right: Astrid. Astrid the Genius. Head of the town council that had let half the town burn to the ground.Down in the basement of town hall Dahra Baidoo handed out scarce ibuprofen and expired Tylenol to kids with burns, like that would pretty much fix anything, as they waited for Lana to go one by one, healing with her touch.Astrid could hear the cries of pain. There were several floors between her and the makeshift hospital. Not enough floors.Edilio staggered in. He was barely recognizable. He was black with soot, dirty, dusty, with ragged scratches and scrapes and clothing hanging in shreds.__ think we got it,_ he said, and lay straight down on the floor.Astrid knelt by his head. __ou have it contained?__ut Edilio was beyond answering. He was unconscious. Done in.Howard appeared next, in only slightly better shape. Some time during the night and morning he__ lost his smirk. He glanced at Edilio, nodded like it made perfect sense, and sank heavily into a chair.__ don__ know what you pay that boy, but it__ not enough,_ Howard said, jerking his chin at Edilio.__e doesn__ do it for pay,_ Astrid said.__eah, well, he__ the reason the whole town didn__ burn. Him and Dekka and Orc and Jack. And Ellen, it was her idea.

We had visceral, rich memories of dull, interminable hours. Then a day would pass in perfect harmony with our projects, our family members, and our coworkers, and we couldn__ believe we were getting paid for this.

You missed it when you pay more attention to the damaged car in the mechanic shop than the sick human being in the hospital.