Explore top famous quotes online to inspire your spirit!
If you plan to pass the pop quiz later, I'd advise it.""It ain't a pop quiz if you warn people beforehand. Doofus.""That's llygad-doofus to you, and did I say pop quiz? 'Cuz I meant ninja-quiz since you'll never see it coming.
I wasn't really a big comic book guy, growing up. I watched cartoons, but the choices were a whole heck of a lot slimmer.
It just seemed like Buddhism, especially Tibetan Buddhism - because that's mainly what I've been exposed to - was a real solid organization of teachings to point someone in the right direction. Some real well thought out stuff. But I don't know, like, every last detail about Buddhism.
You know, writing is really difficult, and it takes a real patience and a skill. I don't know if I have that. I admire it in others, so much, and I envy it.
People simply don't have room, physical room, to keep, for instance, 2-inch tape in the sort of quantities that are required to hold a full archive. It's not just a matter of having three or four boxes, it's 40, 90 boxes of 2-inch tape, and very few people have the resources that sort of stuff properly.
There is something better, if possible, that a man can give than his life. That is his living spirit to a service that is not easy, to resist counsels that are hard to resist, to stand against purposes that are difficult to stand against.
I love black leggings with cowboy (I mean cowgirl!) boots, and other-slightly less trendy-things like my boys' Wrangler jeans and my husband's worn deerskin work gloves. I love most things country, because country, to me, is home.
Do not put everybody's foot into your old shoe; it might not be suitable for everyone.
Any form of art is a form of power.
Together. The fact that one single word could send my heart aflutter was utterly ridiculous. I didn't fall for boys I hardly knew. At least, I hadn't until I met Glate.The night in the shack, things changed between us. The walls I'd built up once the Sectors were formed? Glate had torn them down, and I knew that Lex could see that by the daggers he kept shooting our way.Was I in love with Glate? No, though I was sure Lex thought otherwise.Glate was the stability I sought in a world of discord; being with him made things easier to handle. I wasn't weak, but even I had my breaking point, and when I was ready to break, he was there to pick up all of the pieces. He was there, something I could never say for Lex."Thank you," I said after a few moments of silence. "For everything.""Everyone needs a shoulder to lean on," he said. "I'm more than willing to be that shoulder for you, Taylen. I'm willing to be whatever you need me to be. Just know that.
I'm a better mother if I'm also doing my work. Some women find a lot more satisfaction from doing the hardest job, which is being a mom. But I like my day job, so I juggle a lot.
A community where everyone is a ruthless murderer, with handy access to death-dealing devices, is a very polite community.
A freezing cold underground river. A dark cave lit by ghosts. A man too stupid to realize you loved him. This is what you want?""All of it. Especially the very stupid man.
When I'm in the car sometimes it's like, 'Yeah, man, just put on the pop music.' You know what I mean? I don't want to listen to Tom Waits.
If women patronize the wheel the number of buyers will be twice as large. If women ride they must, when riding, dress more rationally than they have been wont to do. If they do this many prejudices as to what they may be allowed to wear will melt away. Reason will gain upon precedent and ere long the comfortable, sensible, and artistic wardrobe of the rider will make the conventional style of woman's dress absurd to the eye and unenduring to the understanding. A reform often advances most rapidly by indirection. An ounce of practice is worth a ton of theory; and the graceful and becoming costume of woman on the bicycle will convince the world that has brushed aside the theories, no matter how well constructed, and the arguments, no matter how logical, of dress-reformers.
If you have the feeling of choice, if you feel free, you will be better off. And when I say better off I mean that if people feel they have control over their lives, they call in for fewer sick days from work. They have a lesser probability of having a heart attack or stroke. They live longer. They're happier.
Interferometry, like surfing, is a search for the perfect wave. But physicists don't have to paddle around and wait.
Two avenues of approach to these rewards lie open to the ambitious fictioneer. On the one hand, he may throw all intelligible standards of merit to the winds, and devote himself to manufacturing new stories that are frankly bad, trusting to the fact that nine persons out of ten are utterly devoid of esthetic sense and hence unable to tell the bad from the good. And on the other hand, he may take stories, or parts of stories that have been told before, or that, in themselves, are scarcely worth the telling, and so encrust them with the ornaments of wit, of shrewd observation, of human sympathy and of stylein brief, so develop themthat readers of good taste will forget the unsoundness of the material in admiration of the ingenious and workmanlike way in which it is handled.
Little self-denials, little honesties, little passing words of sympathy, little nameless acts of kindness, little silent victories over favorite temptations-these are the silent threads of gold which, when woven together, gleam out so brightly in the pattern of life that God approves.
People don't realize what a brilliant politician Lincoln was. Looking back, we want to ascribe a level of providence to his every decision but he was a cunning and calculating politician; from the cultivation of his image as a hayseed from Illinois, to his ability to keep this country together under dire circumstances.
When he stepped into the shower, the hit water scalded him. He let it run over his face, burning his eyelids. He put up with the pain, his jaw clenched and his muscles taut, suppressing the urge to howl with loneliness in the suffocating steam. For four years, one month, and twelve days, Nikon always got into the shower with him after they made love and soaped his back slowly, interminably. And often she put her arms around him, like a little girl in the rain. One day I'll leave without ever really knowing you. You'll remember my big, dark eyes. The reproachful silences. The moans of anxiety as I slept. The nightmares you couldn't save me from. You'll remember all this when I'm gone.
The pop musicians often leave meaning in the dust and substitute it for cartoons. The deeper artists - the grunge artists in the world and the emoticon people - tend to leave all of the happiness out of life like it just doesn't exist.
I cannot bring myself to vote for a woman who has been voice-trained to speak to me as though my dog has just died.
People who do not love themselves can adore others, because adoration is making someone else big and ourselves small. They can desire others, because desire comes out of sense of inner incompleteness, which demands to be filled. But they can not love others, because love is an affirmation of the living growing being in all of us. If you don't have it, you cant give it.
I was always scared in the amateurs, but the minute I got in the ring it was like another person took over. I become more vicious. In there I love to hurt people. Outside I can't hurt a bug.
If you don't understand something clearly that you are being taught ... speak up.If you feel something is confusing or you are unsure of exactly what to do ... ask about it.If you need clarification or something repeated to make sure you got it ... request it.If you feel lost, forgot something, or feel like you are falling behind ... bring it up.Nodding your head, saying "yeah, yeah" and pretending to know things you don't is right up there with one of the worst things you can do when you hire some one to help you and your career.
Songwriters I've always been drawn to are people who deal with something of depth in the lyric writing ... I've always been influenced by the folk song, the storytelling tradition in folk music. And so for years I wrote mostly story songs. I still do that, but as I've gone on, it's gotten a little more personal. I used to write mostly in the third person. I write a little more in the first person now.
After he died, there was a deep calm to his face; he seemed a kind of unfathomable, still well which opened on and down beneath the suddenly smooth surface of his skin ... The heat in him lasted a long time. I loved that heat. I don't know how long I held his face and his shoulders and stroked him; as he began to cool I kept my hands on his belly, where the last of his warmth seemed to pool and concentrate. Here the fire of the body came to rest, smoldering longest, down to the last embers.
Fools are very often united in the strictest intimacies, as the lighter kinds of woods are the most closely glued together.
You bet your bindi that's how big I want it.
