Then the International Organization for Standardization (ISO) became involved. In September 1961, delegates from eleven countries came to New York to start talking about containers, with observers from fifteen more in attendance. Debate over container sizes, internal structure, door placement, and the like, which had consumed three years in the United States, was now repeated at the international level. The importance of new rules was obvious to all: international container shipping would make sense only with purpose-built vessels, but no one would invest in vessels designed to carry containers of a particular size if there was a chance that some other size might become the international standard. The most contentious issue was the method for lifting containers and locking them to a truck chassis or connecting them to one another. Each container manufacturer wanted its way of doing this to become the international standard. Not until 1965 did the committee reach agreement on a single design for the steel fitting at each corner of a container, so that a standard forty-foot container could be handled at any port or rail terminal anywhere in the world. Finally, container shipping could go global.
I did not say anything. I was always embarrassed by the words sacred, glorious, and sacrifice and the expression in vain. We had heard them, sometimes standing in the rain almost out of earshot, so that only the shouted words came through, and had read them, on proclamations that were slapped up by billposters over other proclamations, now for a long time, and I had seen nothing sacred, and the things that were glorious had no glory and the sacrifices were like the stockyards at Chicago if nothing was done with the meat except to bury it. There were many words that you could not stand to hear and finally only the names of places had dignity.
“I was thinking about a way to refuse without hurting my dad. I finally have him back, and I can’t cause him or his company any harm.”
He barks a humourless laugh that scrapes over my skin like daggers. “Your father, the company, your new family. They all come first. Where do I fit into your list of priorities, Frozen? Am I a fucking afterthought?”
His mother, his father, his godfather and finally Dumbledore; all determined to protect him but now that was over.
Sayfa 536Kitabı okudu
Every fireman, sooner or later, hits this. They only need understanding, to know how the wheels run. Need to know the history of our profession. They don’t feed it to rookies like they used to. Damn shame. (...) Only fire chiefs remember it now. (...) I'll let you in on it. (...)
When did it all start, you ask, this job of ours, how did it
İşte bu yüzden dark romance seviyorum, herkes hak ettiğini buluyor.
Walker calmly walked over to the toolkit that was on a shelf in front of my car, and he grabbed a hammer.
“What are you going to do with that?” I asked, wide-eyed, finally realizing that Walker really couldn’t kill him—as much as I wanted him to.
“Making sure he pays for what he did to you for the rest of his life,” he told me, pressing a fierce kiss against my lips before he slammed his knee into Marco’s gut, holding him flat while he lifted the hammer in the air…
And smashed it against Marco’s dick.
Thwack, Thwack, Thwack. He hammered away until blood had soaked the front of his pants. And still he continued.
Olivia-Walker.Kitabı okudu
