Quotes About Precision

The Python was a double-action weapon, which meant the same trigger pull cocked the hammer and then dropped it, so he started early, getting the cylinder turning while the gun was still moving, seeing the hammer come up, feeling the cams and the levers, waiting, then firing, trusting millisecond timing and momentum and deflection and complex four-dimensional calculations.

One hundred and eighty minutes, not a second more, not a second less. Time and tide wait for no man. The Navy was built on all kinds of bullshit like that.

He liked 97 because it was the largest two-digit prime number, and he loved 81 because it was absolutely the only number out of all the literally infinite possibilities whose square root was also the sum of its digits. Square root of eighty-one was nine, and eight and one made nine. No other nontrivial number in the cosmos had that kind of sweet symmetry. Perfect.

I was watching the minute hand, intently. It wasn't moving. I waited. It moved. It jumped ahead six degrees.

The shorter the time, the cooler you have got to be. If you've got only one shot, you've got to make it count. You can't afford to miss because you screwed up the planning.

Without breaking stride Reacher head-butted him full in the face. Left, right, bang. A perfect ten, for style and content, and power and precision.

smaller, wirier, boiled down to

Reacher] moved the mouse and sent the arrow up toward the icons. He knew they were files. Or file folders. You had to click on them, and in response they would open. He was never sure whether you had to click once or twice. He had seen it done both ways. His usual habit was to click twice. If in doubt, etcetera. Maybe it helped, and it never seemed to hurt. Like shooting someone in the head. A double tap could do no harm.

Never point a loaded gun at anything you don't definitely want to kill." She

Neat and deft and dexterous were adjectives that had never applied.

Legal language strives for concision and avoids ambiguity wherever possible. The result is inevitably dull, but all that striving and avoiding really teaches a person how to write.

They were .50-inch Barrett Model 90s. Nearly four feet long, over twenty-two pounds in weight. Bolt-action repeaters, fired a bullet a full half-inch across.

The half-inch bullet in the Barrett chamber weighs a hair over two ounces. One minute it's stationary. A thousandth of a second later, it's doing nearly nineteen hundred miles an hour, leaving the barrel behind on its way to the target.

His usual habit was to click twice. If in doubt, et cetera. Maybe it helped, and it never seemed to hurt. Like shooting someone in the head. A double tap could do no harm.

Take the expansion rate of the universe, which is fine-tuned to one part in a trillion trillion trillion trillion trillion. That is, if it were changed by one part in either direction--a little faster, a little slower--we could not have a universe that would be capable of supporting life. ~Stephen C. Meyer, PHD~

Ann rolled her eyes. She had a marvelous eye roll, refined through long discipline, precise as acupuncture.

Oh, his speed was no shock—speed was never Alec's problem. It was his precision that astonished. Because listen: How many pitchers in any league have a fastball with its own nickname? And what kind of fastball earns the name Mad Mouse? I will tell you: the kind that twists in crackling without one notion where it's going. The kind you don't see but hear hissing to itself like the bottle rocket before the bang.

Richard Rogers was lecturing at Wethersfield, Essex, someone told him, "Mr. Rogers, I like you and your company very well, but you are so precise." To which Rogers replied, "O Sir, I serve a precise God.

Details make perfection, and perfection is not a detail.

Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication

People tend to be exquisitely precise when describing pain. We don't just say it hurts, we say it throbs or aches; it's a burning, wrenching, gnawing sensation; it's sharp or dull; it chafes; it stings. But where pain specifies, joy generalizes. It was great! we say. Terrific! Beautiful! Fantastic!

Any librarian or scholar will tell you: Close is not the same as accurate.

darkened. And, oh, the graceful curve of the lower landing, the hand-hewn craftsmanship of each individual spindle, the hours of meticulous, painstaking labor. Except, then he turned away from the staircase toward the front sitting room to discover built-in shelves, a gorgeously restored fireplace mantel, the original crown dentil molding . . . He gave up. He stood in the middle of

Each superfluous line, each wrongly placed line, any color placed without veneration or care, can spoil everything, that is, the spiritual.