What Hat Does Raylan Quotes

#1. [T]hat afternoon, Sergei Lavrov called me for the second time during the crisis. [...] "We have three demands," he said.
"What are they?" I asked.
"The first two are that the Georgians sign the no-use-of-force pledge and that their troops return to barracks," he told me.
"Done," I answered.

[...] But then Sergei said, "The other demand is just between us. Misha Saakashvili has to go." I couldn't believe my ears and I reacted out of instinct, not analysis.

"Sergei, the secretary of state of the United States does not have a conversation with the Russian foreign minister about overthrowing a democratically elected president," I said. "The third condition has just become public because I'm going to call everyone I can and tell them that Russia is demanding the overthrow of the Georgian president."

"I said it was between us," he repeated.
"No, it's not between us. Everyone is going to know." The conversation ended. I called Steve Hadley to tell him about the Russian demand. Then I called the British, the French, and several others. That afternoon the UN Security Council was meeting. I asked our representative to inform the Council as well.

Lavrov was furious, saying that he'd never had a colleague divulge the contents of a diplomatic conversation. I felt I had no choice. If the Georgians wanted to punish Saakashvili for the war, they would have a chance to do it through their own constitutional processes. But the Rus #Quote by Condoleezza Rice

#2. Let me explain a little: Certain things are bad so far as they go, such as pain, and no one, not even a lunatic, calls a tooth-ache good in itself; but a knife which cuts clumsily and with difficulty is called a bad knife, which it certainly is not. It is only not so good as other knives to which men have grown accustomed. A knife is never bad except on such rare occasions as that in which it is neatly and scientifically planted in the middle of one's back. The coarsest and bluntest knife which ever broke a pencil into pieces instead of sharpening it is a good thing in so far as it is a knife. It would have appeared a miracle in the Stone Age. What we call a bad knife is a good knife not good enough for us; what we call a bad hat is a good hat not good enough for us; what we call bad cookery is good cookery not good enough for us; what we call a bad civilization is a good civilization not good enough for us. We choose to call the great mass of the history of mankind bad, not because it is bad, but because we are better. This is palpably an unfair principle. Ivory may not be so white as snow, but the whole Arctic continent does not make ivory black. #Quote by G.K. Chesterton

#3. Cooper took his hat off and swiped his forehead. Finally he spoke. "Well, Frank, to my mind, what a woman does or doesn't do should be up to the woman. She should be who she is, not what others expect her to be." It's her land. As far as I'm concerned she's the boss. #Quote by Stephanie Grace Whitson

#4. Costume is always an asset. Normal costume you have a lot to say about - if you're wearing suits or ties, and what color you want, and how it's going to be cut, and stuff like that, and whether or not you're going to wear a hat, and blah, blah, blah. But, when you're wearing a special costume, and of course, costume is probably the second ingredient in character, script being first, I always find that the costume does a lot to cement your character, to put it firmly in mind. #Quote by Morgan Freeman

#5. Of what good is an armchair of velvet when the rest of the environment does not match? It is like a man going around naked and wearing a three-cornered hat. #Quote by Soren Kierkegaard

#6. The human being does not hop out of the magician's hat in the way that the ape climbs down from the tree; he also does not emerge from the hand of a creator who surveys everything in advance with his foreknowledge. He is the product of a production that is not itself a human being. The human being was not yet what he would become before he became it. #Quote by Peter Sloterdijk

#7. Most people put their childhood away as if it was an old hat. They forget it as if it was a phone number that does not apply anymore. They think about their life as if it was a salami which they are eating slice by slice and then they become grown-ups, but what are they now? Only those who grow up and still remain children are real human beings. #Quote by Erich Kastner

#8. The Venetians catalogue everything, including themselves. 'These grapes are brown,' I complain to the young vegetable-dealer in Santa Maria Formosa. 'What is wrong with that ? I am brown,' he replies. 'I am the housemaid of the painter Vedova,' says a maid, answering the telephone. 'I am a Jew,' begins a cross-eyed stranger who is next in line in a bookshop. 'Would you care to see the synagogue?'
Almost any Venetian, even a child, will abandon whatever he is doing in order to show you something. They do not merely give directions; they lead, or in some cases follow, to make sure you are still on the right way. Their great fear is that you will miss an artistic or 'typical' sight. A sacristan, who has already been tipped, will not let you leave until you have seen the last Palma Giovane. The 'pope' of the Chiesa dei Greci calls up to his housekeeper to throw his black hat out the window and settles it firmly on his broad brow so that he can lead us personally to the Archaeological Museum in the Piazza San Marco; he is afraid that, if he does not see to it, we shall miss the Greek statuary there.
This is Venetian courtesy. Foreigners who have lived here a long time dismiss it with observation : 'They have nothing else to do.' But idleness here is alert, on the qui vive for the opportunity of sightseeing; nothing delights a born Venetian so much as a free gondola ride. When the funeral gondola, a great black-and-gold ornate hearse, draws up beside a fondamenta, it is #Quote by Mary McCarthy

#9. If you think the dress is right for you, where are you going to wear it? Does it fit into the kind of life you lead? (If you live in the country, what are you doing with all those town suits and hostess pajamas?) Supposing the dress is all right. If so, what shoes do you wear with it? What hat, gloves? Handbag, jewelry? […] So many women fall in love with a dress, bring it home, and find absolutely nothing that will go with it. #Quote by Joan Crawford

#10. Are we so desperate for entertainment that we will fall for a Trickless magician?? Saw a woman in half. Pull a rabbit out of a hat. Do something! What tricks does this guy have? "I'm in a box ... and I ain't gonna eat.". "I'm in a box ... and I ain't gonna eat!!" That ain't no trick! That's called living in the projects! #Quote by Chris Rock

#11. Nell glanced down at her brother and a swell of love lifted her heart. Always her champion.
"Sounds like you think she talks to them, Seth."
Seth shrugged. "She does. Not with words exactly. I can't explain it." He repositioned his hat. "Don't matter how she does it; I'm just glad she can."
Turning back to the horses, Nell let go her breath and flexed her stiff shoulders. All they had to do now was set up camp and begin work tomorrow. Anticipation thrummed inside her chest, not only because of the horses but because of Charlie and the way she felt him looking at her right now. With a light in his eyes that said he was more than a little curious about what she'd reveal next. #Quote by Caroline Fyffe

#12. By Jove, it's great! Walk along the streets on some spring morning. The little women, daintily tripping along, seem to blossom out like flowers. What a delightful, charming sight! The dainty perfume of violet is everywhere. The city is gay, and everybody notices the women. By Jove, how tempting they are in their light, thin dresses, which occasionally give one a glimpse of the delicate pink flesh beneath!

"One saunters along, head up, mind alert, and eyes open. I tell you it's great! You see her in the distance, while still a block away; you already know that she is going to please you at closer quarters. You can recognize her by the flower on her hat, the toss of her head, or her gait. She approaches, and you say to yourself: 'Look out, here she is!' You come closer to her and you devour her with your eyes.

"Is it a young girl running errands for some store, a young woman returning from church, or hastening to see her lover? What do you care? Her well-rounded bosom shows through the thin waist. Oh, if you could only take her in your arms and fondle and kiss her! Her glance may be timid or bold, her hair light or dark. What difference does it make? She brushes against you, and a cold shiver runs down your spine. Ah, how you wish for her all day! How many of these dear creatures have I met this way, and how wildly in love I would have been had I known them more intimately.

"Have you ever noticed that the ones we would love the most distractedly #Quote by Guy De Maupassant

#13. Now that's what I call magic - seein' all that, dealin' with all that, and still goin' on. It's sittin' up all night with some poor old man who's leavin' the world, taking away such pain as you can, comfortin' their terror, seein' 'em safely on their way…and then cleanin' 'em up, layin' 'em out, making 'em neat for the funeral, and helpin' the weeping widow strip the bed and wash the sheets - which is, let me tell you, no errand for the fainthearted - and stayin' up the next night to watch over the coffin before the funeral, and then going home and sitting down for five minutes before some shouting angry man comes bangin' on your door 'cuz his wife's havin' difficulty givin' birth to their first child and the midwife's at her wits' end and then getting up and fetching your bag and going out again…We all do that, in our own way, and she does it better'n me, if I was to put my hand on my heart. That is the root and heart and soul and center of witchcraft, that is. The soul and center! #Quote by Terry Pratchett

#14. A wink and a smirk walk into a bar, and the bartender asked them what they were drinking, when all of the sudden a mustache in a cowboy hat riding a vagina runs through the door, and right there I have to stop the joke, because not only does it not have a punch line, but that punch line was kidnapped, and if it's ever found, it will probably be rated Not Safe For Work. #Quote by Jarod Kintz

#15. What do you think has become of the young and old
men?
And what do you think has become of the women
and children?
They are alive and well somewhere;
The smallest sprout shows there is really no death,
And if ever there was it led forward life, and does
not wait at the
end to arrest it,
And ceased the moment life appeared.
All goes onward and outward.... and nothing collapses,
And to die is different from what any one supposed,
and luckier.
Has any one supposed it lucky to be born?
I hasten to inform him or her it is just as lucky to
die, and I
know it.
I pass death with the dying, and birth with the newwashed
babe.... and am not contained between my hat and
boots,
And peruse manifold objects, no two alike, and
every one good,
The earth good, and the stars good, and their adjuncts
all good.
I am not an earth nor an adjunct of an earth,
I am the mate and companion of people, all just as
immortal and
fathomless as myself;
They do not know how immortal, but I know. #Quote by Walt Whitman

#16. A magician creates magic and mesmerizes the audience. But it is a pantomime, and the audience knows that it's a ruse. It's in the name: a "magic trick". They play along when the magician tugs his sleeves to show there is nothing hidden within them, or that the top hat is empty of a rabbit, or eggs, or flowers. Beneath the façade there is only sleight of hand, wires and contraptions, misdirection at a key moment.
"But what the audience does not realize is that it's not always trickery. Or at least, not quite. #Quote by Laura Lam

#17. At the end of the world there lies a mountain so high it makes you dizzy even to think about it. It is as black as soot, as smooth as silk, terribly steep, and where there should be a bottom, there are only clouds. But high up on the peak stands the Hobgoblin's House, and it looks like this." And Snufkin drew a house in the sand.
"Hasn't it got any windows?" asked Sniff.
"No," said Snufkin, "and it hasn't got a door either, because the Hobgoblin always goes home by air riding on a black panther. He goes out every night and collects rubies in his hat."
"What did you say?" asked Sniff, with his eyes popping out of his head. "Rubies! Where does he get them from?"
"The Hobgoblin can change himself into anything he likes," Snufkin answered, "and then he can crawl under the ground and even down onto the sea bed where buried treasure lies. #Quote by Tove Jansson

#18. What I'd like is to meet a man I could take off my hat to and say: Thank you for having got born, and the longer you live the better. #Quote by Maxim Gorky

#19. I sat up, fought against dizziness. Somewhere in the distance a single bell rang out the pattern for gold-candles and the beginning of another day.
"Drink."
The cup was near to hand. I rose on one elbow and reached for it. Some sips later I felt immeasurably better. My eyesight cleared, and so did my thoughts.
I remembered the interlude during the night, and frowned across the fire at my companion. He looked exactly the same as ever--as if he'd sat up for a single time measure and not for an entire night. The plain hat, simply tied hair, ordinary clothing unmarked by any device; I squinted, trying to equate this slight figure with that arrogant plume-helmed commander riding on the ridge above the last battle. But if he is who I think he is, they're used to being up all night at their stupid Court parties, I thought grimly.
"You seem to know who I am," I said. "Who are you?"
"Does it matter?"
His use of my own words the night before surprised me a little. Did he expect flattery? Supposedly those so-refined Court aristocrats lived on it as anyone else lives on bread and drink. I considered my answer, wanting to make certain it was not even remotely complimentary. "I'm exactly as unlikely to blab our secrets to an anonymous flunky as I am to a Court decoration with a reputation as a gambler and a fop," I said finally.
"'Court decoration'?" he repeated, with a faint smile. The strengthening light of dawn revealed telltale marks under his eyes. S #Quote by Sherwood Smith

#20. With her head on his shoulder, Jean Louise was content. It might work after all, she thought. But I am not domestic. I don't even know how to run a cook. What do ladies say to each other when they go visiting? I'd have to wear a hat. I'd drop the babies and kill 'em. #Quote by Harper Lee

#21. What if I never see it again?
What if nobody ever finds it?
My poor hat.
I miss it so much. #Quote by Jon Klassen

#22. See that guy over there?" I nod toward a man in jean shorts and a Budweiser T-shirt. "Am I that obvious?"
St. Clair squints at him. "Obviously what? Balding? Overweight? Tasteless?"
"American."
He sighs melodramtically. "Honestly, Anna. You must get over this."
"I just don't want to offend anyone. I hear they offend easily."
"You're not offending anyone except me right now."
"What about her?" I point to a middle-aged woman in khaki shorts and a knit top with stars and stripes on it.She has a camera strapped to her belt and is arguing with a man in a bucket hat. Her husband,I suppose.
"Completely offensive."
"I mean,am I as obvious as her?"
"Considering she's wearing the American flag, I'd venture a no on that one." He bites his thumbnail. "Listen.I think I have a solution to your problem, but you'll have to wait for it. Just promise you'll stop asking me to compare you to fifty-year-old women,and I'll take care of everything."
"How? With what? A French passport?"
He snorts. "I didn't say I'd make you French." I open my mouth to protest, but he cuts me off. "Deal?"
"Deal," I say uncomfortably. I don't care for surprises. "But it better be good."
"Oh,it's good." And St. Clair looks so smug that I'm about to call him on it, when I realize I can't see our school anymore.
I don't believe it.He's completely distracted me. #Quote by Stephanie Perkins

#23. (W)hat I write when I force myself is generally just as good as what I write when I'm feeling inspired. It's mainly a matter of forcing yourself to write. #Quote by Tom Wolfe

#24. Lana left, and a guy named Norm came in to replace her. He spent the next three hours talking about a hangout he had with Lana that may or may not have been a date, not that he was worried about it, but what did I think and had Lana mentioned him?

I gave him non-committal answers until I finally cracked. " Jesus Christ, Norm. This is the 'move on with your life' dance." I did a dance like I was imitating a train. "There, did that work? Lana's literally never said your name in my presence."

The injured look on his face gave me a flush of dark satisfaction. "Damn, Alice, that's cold." He took off his hat, folded the brim to make it more pretentious, and re-perched it on his head. #Quote by Melissa Albert

#25. What is it you're interested in exactly?" the man asked
slowly. "Just the color?"
"I think we both know," said Adrian cunningly. "I want the
color. I want the 'bonus effects.' And I want it to look
badass. You probably can't even do the design I want."
"That's the least of your worries," said the guy. "I've been
doing this for years. I can draw anything you want."
"Yeah? Can you draw a skeleton riding a motorcycle with
flames coming out of it? And I want a pirate hat on the
skeleton. And a parrot on his shoulder. A skeleton parrot.
Or maybe a ninja skeleton parrot? No, that would be
overkill. But it'd be cool if the biker skeleton could be
shooting some ninja throwing stars. That are on fire."
"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard," said the
tattooist.
"That's not what the ladies are going to say," said Adrian #Quote by Richelle Mead

#26. dear little baby of the folks I work for, I got a present for you .. my whole damn life! I'm handin' it over to you & your ma & pa. if you got no money to pay, I wanna stay anyhow, my pleasure is to wait on you forever. to hell with my children & hooray for you!.. you stayin' up all night fixin' up Character Parts for me! givin' 'em what you call dignity! dignity! you know what your dignity is? a black straw hat with a flower stickin' up in front, hands folded cross my stomach, sayin' the same damn fool things .. only nice & easy & proper!" --trouble in mind (1955) #Quote by Alice Childress

#27. An utter success,' her stepdaughters confided to
Margaret as they prepared to take their leave. 'The handsome king! That spoof!' Still the rain persisted, and the bishop had lost his hat. Maids danced in and out. Where was the bishop's hat? Alone at the window, Margaret didn't hear. The reflection of the parlor was yellow and warm. She watched it empty out. Then, an interruption. A voice came at her side: 'What do you look at with such interest, Lady Cavendish?' What did she see in the glass? She saw the Marchioness of Newcastle. She saw the aging wife of an aged marquess, without even any children to dignify her life. #Quote by Danielle Dutton

#28. And that's just what I'm saying. I would never want to be like certain people, who change the way they dress, go out in disguise, wear a big floppy hat and dark shades. I would hate that. #Quote by Todd Solondz

#29. I also think he is given to disguises ... Sometimes he wears spectacles and sometimes he does not. And twice he has worn an extremely peculiar hat. Inside. #Quote by Julia Quinn

#30. Philosophers who have denied that there are any innate ideas probably meant only that all ideas were copies of our impressions. [W]hat is meant by 'innate'? If 'innate' is equivalent to 'natural', then all the perceptions and ideas of the mind must be granted to be innate or natural, in whatever sense we take the latter word, whether in opposition to what is uncommon, what is artificial, or what is miraculous. If innate means 'contemporary with our birth', the dispute seems to be frivolous - there is no point in enquiring when thinking begins, whether before, at, or after our birth. #Quote by David Hume

#31. So are there lots of cows?" she asked before she could stop herself. "On the ranch, I mean."
Zane didn't spare her a glance. "Some."
"Like twenty?"
He glanced at her then, before turning his attention back to the road. "We run several thousand head of steers. Those are the ones that end up on your barbecue. I have another few hundred head of cows for breeding purposes."
"No bulls?" she asked, unable to keep from grinning.
He sighed the sigh of the long suffering. "A dozen or so."
"A dozen bulls for a few hundred cows?"
Mr. Hunk-in-a-hat, who had put his hat on the seat between them when he'd climbed into the cab, chuckled. "Yup."
"Yet another example of our patriarchal society ignoring the rights of cows."
"You worried about cows' rights?" He sounded both incredulous and amused. "You a lawyer?"
"No. And I'm not concerned about cows' rights. Of course I want them treated humanely, as any civilized person would, but I'm not crazy."
"What are you, then?"
"What?"
He glanced at her. "If you're not a lawyer, what are you?"
"Oh." For a second she thought he'd been referring to her mental state. "I work in real estate."
Fortunately Zane didn't ask any questions about her career. She didn't think that telling him she'd been suspended for litigation would improve his opinion of her. #Quote by Susan Mallery

#32. West couldn't simply leave the man like this, he didn't have it in him.

"Goodman Heath," he said as he approached, and the peasant looked up at him, surprised. He fumbled for his hat and made to rise, muttering apologies.

"No, please, don't get up." West sat down on the bench. He stared at his feet, unable to look the man in the eye. There was an awkward silence. "I have a friend who sits on the Commission for Land and Agriculture. There might be something he can do for you…" He trailed off, embarrassed, squinting up the corridor.

The farmer gave a sad smile. "I'd be right grateful for anything you could do."

"Yes, yes, of course, I'll do what I can." It would do no good whatsoever, and they both knew it. West grimaced and bit his lip. "You'd better take this," and he pressed his purse into the peasant's limp, calloused fingers. Heath looked at him, mouth slightly open. West gave a quick, awkward smile then got to his feet. He was very keen to be off.

"Sir!" called Goodman Heath after him, but West was already hurrying down the corridor, and he didn't look back. #Quote by Joe Abercrombie

#33. I grin, and he beams with pride.
"So what kind of hat is that?" I ask, unable to resist. He's adorable when he's showing off his wardrobe - like a puppy doing tricks. Although I remain cautious, knowing in the blink of an eye he can become a wolf again.
"My Peregrination Cap," he answers.
"Huh?"
His smile widens - baring white teeth. "Peregrination. An excursion ... a journey."
"So, why don't you just call it your traveling cap?"
"Then it wouldn't be much of a conversation starter, would it?"
I raise an eyebrow. "Um, the fact that it's made of living moths might give you something to talk about."
Morpheus laughs. For once our relationship feels comfortable, friendly. #Quote by A.G. Howard

#34. What is the age of the soul of man? As she hath the virtue of the chameleon to change her hue at every new approach, to be gay with the merry and mournful with the downcast, so too is her age changeable as her mood. No longer is Leopold, as he sits there, ruminating, chewing the cud of reminiscence, that staid agent of publicity and holder of a modest substance in the funds. He is young Leopold, as in a retrospective arrangement, a mirror within a mirror (hey, presto!), he beholdeth himself. That young figure of then is seen, precociously manly, walking on a nipping morning from the old house in Clambrassil street to the high school, his booksatchel on him bandolierwise, and in it a goodly hunk of wheaten loaf, a mother's thought. Or it is the same figure, a year or so gone over, in his first hard hat (ah, that was a day!), already on the road, a fullfledged traveller for the family firm, equipped with an orderbook, a scented handkerchief (not for show only), his case of bright trinketware (alas, a thing now of the past!), and a quiverful of compliant smiles for this or that halfwon housewife reckoning it out upon her fingertips or for a budding virgin shyly acknowledging (but the heart? tell me!) his studied baisemoins. The scent, the smile but more than these, the dark eyes and oleaginous address brought home at duskfall many a commission to the head of the firm seated with Jacob's pipe after like labours in the paternal ingle (a meal of noodles, you may be sure, is aheatin #Quote by James Joyce

#35. When I first put my hat in the ring, several very tried and true and loyal Democratic activists from our community said, 'What? She's not a Democrat. She's a Republican.' I took that as a compliment, you know, that people didn't necessarily know what my ideology might be because I wasn't driven by that. #Quote by Wendy Davis

#36. Once you join the queue for the immigration line, pay attention to what the expeditor tells you. Have your papers ready. Don't have your cell phone out. Take off your hat. Open your passport to the page with your photo and present it to the immigration officer already open. #Quote by Hanya Yanagihara

#37. One does not lash hat lies at a distance. The foibles that we ridicule must at least be a little bit our own. Only then will the work be a part of our own flesh. The garden must be weeded. #Quote by Paul Klee

#38. She had been expecting me and was ready. She gave a long slow soundless headshake, merciful only in being inarticulate. This mercy didn't prevent its hurling at me the largest finest coldest 'Never!' I had yet, in the course of a life that had known denials, had to take full in the face. I took it and was aware that with the hard blow the tears had come into my eyes. So for a while we sat and looked at each other; after which I slowly rose. I was wondering if some day she would accept me; but this was not what I brought out. I said as I smoothed my hat: 'I know what to think then. It's nothing! #Quote by Henry James

#39. Charting liberal hypocrisy is now old hat. From academia to the Sierra Club, elite progressives expect to live lives that are quite different from what they envision for the less sophisticated. No one believes that Elizabeth Warren would wish affirmative action to work for everyone in the way that she herself subverted it. Nor would we expect Warren not to be in the 1 percent that she so scolds - any more than we would assume that Al Gore would not leave a carbon footprint as large as those of thousands of the less environmentally sensitive put together. #Quote by Anonymous

#40. This is newness: every little tawdry
Obstacle glass-wrapped and peculiar,
Glinting and clinking in a saint's falsetto. Only you
Don't know what to make of the sudden slippiness,
The blind, white, awful, inaccessible slant.
There's no getting up it by the words you know.
No getting up by elephant or wheel or shoe.
We have only come to look. You are too new
To want the world in a glass hat. #Quote by Sylvia Plath

#41. Here we are, worrying about whether we're thin enough or whether our bottom looks too big in this pair of trousers or even whether or not I should wear a hat - does it really matter in comparison to the important things that are going on in the world? #Quote by Cherie Blair

#42. There are many times when a woman will ask another girl friend how she likes her new hat. She will reply, 'Fine,' but slap her hand to her forehead the minute the girl leaves to yipe, 'What a horror!' #Quote by Marilyn Monroe

#43. What would you like for your own life, Kate, if you could choose?"
"Anything?"
"Of course anything."
"That's really easy, Aunty Ivy."
"Go on then."
"A straw hat...with a bright scarlet ribbon tied around the top and a bow at the back. A tea-dress like girls used to wear, with big red poppies all over the fabric. A pair of flat, white pumps, comfortable but really pretty. A bicycle with a basket on the front. In the basket is a loaf of fresh bread, cheese, fruit oh...and a bottle of sparkly wine, you know, like posh people drink.
"I'm cycling down a lane. There are no lorries or cars or bicycles. No people – just me. The sun is shining through the trees, making patterns on the ground. At the end of the lane is a gate, sort of hidden between the bushes and trees. I stop at the gate, get off the bike and wheel it into the garden.
"In the garden there are flowers of all kinds, especially roses. They're my favourite. I walk down the little path to a cottage. It's not big, just big enough. The front door needs painting and has a little stained glass window at the top. I take the food out of the basket and go through the door.
"Inside, everything is clean, pretty and bright. There are vases of flowers on every surface and it smells sweet, like lemon cake. At the end of the room are French windows. They need painting too, but it doesn't matter. I go through the French windows into a beautiful garden. Even more flowers there...and a veranda. O #Quote by Valentina Hepburn