#insider

I love all insider memoirs. It doesn't matter whether it's truck-drivers or doctors. I think everybody likes to go backstage, find out what people think and what they talk about and what specialised job they have. ↗

— David Mamet

#backstage #doctors #everybody #find #go

Social engineering is using manipulation, influence and deception to get a person, a trusted insider within an organization, to comply with a request, and the request is usually to release information or to perform some sort of action item that benefits that attacker. ↗

— Kevin Mitnick

#benefits #comply #deception #engineering #get

I got all the respect in the world for the front-runners in this race, but ask yourself: If we replace a Democratic insider with a Republican insider, you think we're really going to change Washington, D.C.? You don't have to settle for Washington and Wall Street insiders who supported the Wall Street bailout and the Obamacare individual mandate. ↗

— Rick Perry

#bailout #change #democratic #going #got

You need to shave,” I said to wipe that gooey love struck look off his face. I didn’t need my dad to kill him. Caeden grinned and rubbed his stubbly chin. “But you love my scruff,” he said and rubbed his jaw against my face to drive home the point. ↗

— Micalea Smeltzer

#home

I followed him down the hall and into his room. He closed the door and tossed my dirty clothes into his hamper. “Don’t do that! I’ll take them home and wash them,” I tried to grab for them but Caeden grabbed my hands instead. “It’s fine,” he kissed the side of my mouth while I squirmed in his grasp. “Caeden, your mom doesn’t need to clean my dirty clothes.” “It’s not a problem. Besides,” he said huskily in my ear, “my mom doesn’t do my laundry. I do my own, just like a big boy.” I laughed. “And you know what else?” his lips brushed my ear. “What?” “I even make my own bed. ↗

— Micalea Smeltzer

#home

There’s a writer for you,” he said. “Knows everything and at the same time he knows nothing.” [narrator]It was my first inkling that he was a writer. And while I like writers—because if you ask a writer anything you usually get an answer—still it belittled him in my eyes. Writers aren’t people exactly. Or, if they’re any good, they’re a whole lot of people trying so hard to be one person. It’s like actors, who try so pathetically not to look in mirrors. Who lean backward trying—only to see their faces in the reflecting chandeliers. ↗

— F. Scott Fitzgerald

#descriptions #insider #people #perceptions #writers

What are you watching?” “Infomercials,” I said. Bryce laughed and wiped his hands on his pajama pants before grabbing the house phone off the side table. “These are the best. I love calling and asking them questions.” “Like what?” “You’ll see,” he grinned mischievously, waggling his eyebrows, and punched in the number. ↗

— Micalea Smeltzer

#love

If you put enough sheep together you have a herd- a force to be reckoned with. ↗

— Maria V. Snyder

#dystopian #dystopian-fiction #good-book #inside-out #insider

Gram?” I asked. “You okay?” “Damn men,” she said. “I fell in the toilet.” I busted out laughing. Tears of laughter coursed down my face. “Oh God,” I said, still laughing. Caeden was blushing. Even his ears were red. “I did tell you I can never remember to put the toilet seat down. ↗

— Micalea Smeltzer

#men

Anybody who plays the stock market not as an insider is like a man buying cows in the moonlight. ↗

— Daniel Drew

#buying #cows #insider #like #man