Quotes about regular, page 2
In our daily lives as programmers, we process text strings a lot. So I tried to work hard on text processing, namely the string class and regular expressions. Regular expressions are built into the language and are very tuned up for use.
quote by Yukihiro Matsumoto
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Sometimes you get caught up in what's going on around you. The reality is that you are just a regular person. At some point, the career will be over, the bright lights turn off. That can come back to haunt you if you're not just a regular guy.
quote by Brett Favre
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I wish I lived on a planet that had two suns---regular sun and 'rogue' sun. That way, when somebody asked me what time it was, I'd say, 'Regular time' And they'd say, 'Yeah.' And I'd say, 'Sorry, all I have is rogue time.' It'd be fun to be a stuck-up rogue-time guy.
Jack Handey in Deep Thoughts
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So I'm a young boy in the 1940s growing up, seeing Ralph Bunche on a regular basis, seeing Duke Ellington on a regular basis. We know that these people are famous. They're living in the same community as we live in. They go to the same stores and shops.
quote by Ed Smith
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People talk about that catch and, I've said this many times, that I've made better catches than that many times in regular season. But of course in my time, you didn't have a lot of television during the regular season. A lot of people didn't see me do a lot of things.
quote by Willie Mays
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We get information in the mail, the regular postal mail, encrypted or not, vet it like a regular news organization, format it - which is sometimes something that's quite hard to do, when you're talking about giant databases of information - release it to the public and then defend ourselves against the inevitable legal and political attacks.
quote by Julian Assange
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My Last Day
It was a day like any other:
I shaved, I ran the shower.
The bus was right on time.
My necktie was green, like lime.
I stepped lively off my stop;
On the regular corner the regular cop.
My office bristled with business;
I felt a little dizziness.
The only difference from that day-
All the best, all the rest-
Was that it turned out to be my last.
poem by Stan Petrovich
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Elliott Hawkins
I looked like Abraham Lincoln.
I was one of you, Spoon River, in all fellowship,
But standing for the rights of property and for order.
A regular church attendant,
Sometimes appearing in your town meetings to warn you
Against the evils of discontent and envy,
And to denounce those who tried to destroy the Union,
And to point to the peril of the Knights of Labor.
My success and my example are inevitable influences
In your young men and in generations to come,
In spite of attacks of newspapers like the Clarion;
A regular visitor at Springfield,
When the Legislature was in session,
To prevent raids upon the railroads,
And the men building up the state.
Trusted by them and by you, Spoon River, equally
In spite of the whispers that I was a lobbyist.
Moving quietly through the world, rich and courted.
Dying at last, of course, but lying here
Under a stone with an open book carved upon it
[...] Read more
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
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The (Not-So-Great) Bailout of 2008
Gather round children,
as I tell the tale,
Of how all the banks
started to fail.
About how the government
bailed out the rich,
Rather than the poor,
which would have been a switch.
People were greedy,
for something called cash,
Brokers on Wall Street had plenty,
so what they did seems rash.
And so they started
robbing regular people blind.
That's how America (and the World)
got into a bind.
The banks began approving loans for homes,
to anyone who might need.
[...] Read more
poem by Joseph DeMarco
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Apoem of his smile (The seventh smile)
He's smile is from other worlds,
or a world that exists in my dreams.
It's so beautiful that it hurts,
when it's constantly changing as it seems.
It's more eloquent every day,
though there is a smile for every situation.
And each smile sweep me away,
when he smiles for me on every occasion.
He has six smiles,
one if his cheeks blushed all in red.
And one on the regular whiles,
when he laughes to some thing's said.
And when he talkes to a girl,
he smiles when he talks of his family.
But he has no smile for who's in a whirl,
he has no smile when he talks of me.
Still there is a smile when he lies,
and the same smile when he pretends.
The sixth smile lights up his eyes,
as he's day dreaming or talking of his friends.
[...] Read more
poem by Eman Awad
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