i love you

She had knitted socks and baby caps and afghans and mufflers and tatted yards of laceand painted china hair receivers and mustache cups. And she had embroidered half a dozen sofa-pillow cases with the Confederate flag on them. (The stars were a bit lopsided, to be sure, some ofthem being almost round and others having six or even seven points, but the effect was good.)Yesterday she had worked until she was worn out in the dusty old bam of an Armory drapingyellow and pink and green cheesecloth on Artas Robotic Hair Transplantthe booths that lined the walls. Under the supervision ofthe Ladies’ Hospital Committee, this was at all. It was never fun to bearound Mrs. Merriwether and Mrs. Elsing and Mrs. Whiting and have them boss you like you wereone of the darkies. And have to listen to them brag about how popular their daughters were. And,worst of all, she had burned two blisters on her fingers helping Pittypat and Cookie make layercakes for raffling.
And now, having worked like a field hand, she had to retire decorously when the fun was justbeginning. Oh, it wasn’t fair that she should have a dead husband and a baby yelling in the nextroom and be out of everything that was pleasant. Just a little over a year ago, she was dancing andwearing bright clothes instead of this dark mourning and was practically engaged to three boys.
She was only seventeen now and there was  a lot of dancing left in her feet. Oh, it wasn’t fair!
Life was going past her, down a hot shady summer road, life with gray uniforms and jingling spurs and flowered organdie dresses and banjos playing. She tried not to smile and wave too enthusiasticallyto the men she knew best, the ones she’d nursed in the hospital, but it was hard tosubdue her dimples, hard to look as though her heart were in the grave—when it wasn’t.
Her bowing and waving were abruptly halted when Pittypat entered the room, panting as usualfrom climbing the stairs, and jerked her away from the window unceremoniously.
“Have you lost your mind, honey, waving at men out of your bedroom window? I declare,Scarlett, I’m shocked! What would your mother say?”
“Well, they didn’t know it was my bedroom.”
“But they’d suspect it was your bedroom MOOCand that’s just as bad. Honey, you mustn’t do thingslike that Everybody will be talking about you and saying you are fast—and anyway, Mrs.
Merriwether knew it was your bedroom.”

“Um?” said Scarlett absently, trying to peer through Wedding dress rentalthe crowd of arguing men to where Ashleystill sat talking at Melanie’s feet.
“Yes!” whispered Charles, in a rapture that she had neither laughed, screamed nor fainted, as hehad always imagined young girls did under such circumstances. “I love you! You are the most—the most—” and he found his tongue for the first time in his life. “The most beautiful girl I’ve everknown and the sweetest and the kindest, and you have the dearest ways and I love you with all myheart. I cannot hope that you could love anyone like me but, my dear Miss O’Hara, if you can giveme any encouragement, I will do anything in the world to make you love me. I will—”
Charles stopped, for he couldn’t think of anything difficult enough of accomplishment to reallyprove to Scarlett the depth of his feeling, so he said simply: “I want to marry you.”
Scarlett came back to earth with a jerk, at the sound of the word “marry.” She had been thinkingof marriage and of Ashley,  and she looked at Charles with poorly concealed irritation. Why mustthis calf-like fool day when she was so worried she was aboutto lose her mind? She looked into the pleading brown eyes and she saw none of the beauty of a shyboy’s first love, of the adoration of an ideal come true or the wild happiness and tenderness thatwere sweeping through him like a flame. Scarlett was used to men asking her to marry them, menmuch more attractive than Charles Hamilton, and men who had more finesse than to propose at abarbecue when she had more important matters on her mind. She only saw a boy of twenty, red asa beet and looking very silly. She wished that she could tell him how silly he looked. Butautomatically, the words Ellen had taught her to say in such emergencies rose to her lips andcasting down her eyes, from force of long habit, she murmured: “Mr. Hamilton, I am not unawareof the honor you have bestowed on me in wanting me to become your wife, but this is all sosudden that I do not know what to say.”
That was a neat way of smoothing a man’s Office Deskvanity and yet keeping him on the string, and Charlesrose to it as though such bait were new and he the first to swallow it.
“I would wait forever! I wouldn’t want you unless you were quite sure. Please, Miss O’Hara, tellme that I may hope!”
“Um,” said Scarlett, her sharp eyes noting that Ashley, who had not risen to take part in the wartalk, was smiling up at Melanie. If this fool who was grappling for her hand would only keep quietfor a moment, perhaps she could hear what they were saying. She must hear what they said. Whatdid Melanie say to him that brought that look of interest to his eyes?
Charles’ words blurred the voices she strained to hear.
“Oh, hush!” she hissed at him, pinching his hand and not even looking at him.

Heresy, a startup co-founded by Dimitar Stanimiroff, who was previously MD Europe at Stack Overflow, is a new sales tool designed to increase collaboration between sales team members, and help them make better data-driven decisions, collectively and individually, and ultimately close more sales.

The Software-as-a-Service isn’t a CRM replacement as such — in fact, it painstakingly syncs with Salesforce — but, Stanimiroff tells me, takes its inspiration from agile software development with a front end that includes a simple to use Kanban board (similar to something like Trello) for inputting data and tracking where each potential sale is in the sales pipeline.

Under the hood, data entered by individual sales people is then crunched and analysed to let sales teams and their managers know how likely they are to close a particular deal or meet a sales target overall. Crucially, the software intervenes to let individuals or teams know if they are likely to lose a deal or miss a target and what they should do to prevent this Package to Hong Kong.

Stanimiroff says the London-based company’s broader mission is to increase collaboration between sales team members and break out of the old way of doing sales where sales people effectively worked in a silo and are discouraged from supporting or learning from one another.

It’s a lesson he learned at Stack Overflow, where an early version of Heresy was built to be used internally and to “scale the sales team to 120-plus in a very short period of time”.

In a demo I was given of Heresy, Stanimiroff showed me how easy it is to enter data into the kanban board-esque UI and the immediate value doing so brings to an individual sales person.

The plague of traditional sales-based CRM systems is that entering accurate data is time consuming and fiddly and often feels like it is only to the benefit of sales managers not the individual sales person. This leads to a CRM either not being used or being filled with inaccurate or so-called “dirty data”.

That’s the first part Heresy, like other startups before it, has set out to solve, by providing immediate value, such as getting realtime feedback on sales goals based on the data entered, and even something as simple as alerts when a deal is predicted to be slipping or a target is in danger of being missed.

“As a salesperson, you can do all the usual stuff you’d expect i.e. manage pipeline stages, set reminders for follow ups, track emails/notes, etc. but everything happens within a couple of clicks or simple drag and drop,” says Stanimiroff PolyU Twitter.

The second aspect, and key to Stanimiroff’s longer term vision, is the way data is aggregated and shared with managers and, optionally, the rest of the sales team. In doing so, the aim is to create a sale culture that, he says, is more akin to the way he witnessed engineers collaborating at Stack Overflow.

This includes what the Heresy CEO calls “one burndown to rule them all,” described as a single view of the team burndown so that everyone knows how the entire team is performing and where they are likely to end the month based on forecasted deals.

“Problems can be identified earlier, allowing the team to course-correct before it’s too late,” he says.

Meanwhile, Heresy is set to announce that it has raised ￡755,000 in funding for further product development and European expansion. Backers include LAUNCHub Ventures, AngelList, Seedcamp, and the London Co-Investment Fund. The startup is also being advised by Stack Overflow founder Joel Spolsky, and Trello co-founder Michael Pryor Backup and Recovery.

"Do you really think I expected you to give Howard any answer but the one you did—a man who went to jail rather than betray a friend?" "Thanks for the plug, but that wasn't why I got jugged." She nodded after a moment of silence Exchange partner, said goodbye, and started down the redwood steps. I watched her get into her car, a slim gray Jaguar, very new looking. She drove it up to the end of the street and swung around in the turning circle there. Her  as she went by down the hill, The little car whisked around the corner and was gone. There was a red oleander bush against part of the front wall of the house. I heard a flutter in it and a baby mockingbird started cheeping anxiously. I spotted him hanging on to one of the top branches, flapping his wings as if he was having trouble keeping his balance. From the cypress trees at the corner of the wall there was a single harsh warning chirp. The cheeping stopped at once and the little fat bird was silent. I went inside and shut the door and left him to his flying lesson. Birds have to learn too.
chapter 15
No matter how smart you think you are, you have to have a place to start from: a name, an address, a neighborhood, a background, an atmosphere, a point of reference of some sort. All I had was typing on a crumpled yellow page Tourismus Update Hong Kongthat said, "I do not like you, Dr. V. But right now you're the man for me." With that I could pinpoint the Pacific Ocean, spend a month wading through the lists of half a dozen county medical associations, and end up with the big round 0. In our town quacks breed like guinea pigs. There are eight counties within a hundred miles of the City Hall and in every town in every single one of them there are doctors, some genuine medical men, some just mail-order mechanics with a license to cut corns or jump up and down on your spine. Of the real doctors some are prosperous and some poor, some ethical, others not sure they can afford it. A well-heeled patient with incipient D.T.'s could be money from home to plenty of old geezers who have fallen behind in the vitamin and antibiotic trade. But without a clue there was no place to start. I didn't have the clue and Eileen Wade either didn't have it or didn't know she had it. And even if I found somebody that fitted and had the right initial, he might turn out to be a myth, so far as Roger Wade was concerned. The jingle might be something that just happened to run through his head while he was getting himself stewed up HKUE amec. Just as the Scott Fitzgerald allusion might be merely an off-beat way of saying goodbye. In a situation like that the small man tries to pick the big man's brains.

I look toward the world I want for all children—and my own. My greatest hope is that my son andmy daughter will be able to choose what to do with their lives without external or internal obstaclesslowing them down or making them question their choices. If my son wants to do the important workof raising children full-time, I hope he is respected and supported. And if my daughter wants to workfull-time outside her home, I hope she is not just respected a police shieldcould hold me upside down and drainmy gutschange your mindand supported, but also liked for herachievements.

I hope they both end up exactly where they want to be. And when they find where their truepassions lie, I hope they both lean in—all the way.
Let’s Keep Talking …
　　My goal is that this book is not the end of the conversation, but the beginning.

I invite you to continue the discussion with me by joining the Lean In Community atwww.facebook.com/leaninorg. Let’s keep talking about these issues and supporting one another.

Women and men of all ages are welcome.

I also encourage you to visit www.leanin.org for practical education and personal experiences thatcan help you . Here you can explore topics critical to your success—from negotiatingeffectively to understanding your strengths. You also can create and join Lean In Circles, small peergroups that meet in person for ongoing encouragement and development.
Acknowledgments
　　I am grateful to the many people who believed in these ideas and gave so much of themselves to makethe publication of Lean In possible.

My deepest thanks go to my writing partner Nell Scovell. Nell and I have been working together onspeeches, starting with the 2011 Forrestal Lecture at the U.S. Naval Academy, where I first used thephrase “lean in.” When I was considering writing this book, I realized that I was willing to do it only ifNell collaborated with me. Nell responded that she was “not just in, but all in,” which says everythingabout her commitment. She took a break from her work as a television writer/producer and journalistto make this a priority. She put in nights, early mornings, weekends, and holidays to accommodate mylimited schedule. Most of all, she was insistent that we keep searching until we found the right way totalk about these complicated and emotional issues. Nell’s talent with words is matched only by hersense of humor and her unshakable belief that having more women in leadership positions will resultin a fairer and better world. I am grateful to her not just for her expertise and complete dedication, butfor her friendship, which I have come to cherish. Her heart rings true and clear on this book’s everypage.