I could hear him laughing. Son of a bit*h. I would kill him. I didn't care if he was coyote or the son of Satan.He was a dead man walking.
I think piracy is a bit like drinking. You want to stay out all night doing it, you pay the price the next day.
Sometimes I wore smiles but didn’t feel them. Sometimes I felt them and didn’t wear them. I didn’t want her to know how much I craved this. I bit my bottom lip.
How awful is it to be sane enough to be fully aware of the day you realize you are completely losing your grasp on reality. I'm crazy. Not just a little bit, but rubber room ready out of my mind fucked up.
A charging black rhinoceros is nothing to mess with. When it is headed straight toward you, it is the ultimate exercise in sphincter control. In my case, it was a strange bit of weather that caused one to charge me.
When you have a lot of goals to accomplish, it is very important you do your own “Kaizin”. Shift those that are unnecessary now to the following day and carefully deal with a bigger task in smaller bits
Later on in life, you expect a bit of rest, don't you? You think you deserve it. I did, anyway. But then you begin to understand that the reward of merit is not life's business.
Man, I’m just trying to get you lighten up a bit.” “Murphy, we’re looking at a thousand rotting corpses. Lighten up?” “Life is what you make it, man.
...he didn’t know when he was going to get the chance to play WoW again. And it was damn important to do his bit to save all life on Azeroth while he could.
You are not Dostoevsky,' said the woman... 'You never can tell...' he answered. 'Dostoevsky is dead,' the woman said, a bit uncertainly. 'I protest!' he said with heat, 'Dostoevsky is immortal!
Smartass Disciple: Master, can you trust this bank to keep your money safe? Master of Stupidity: Well, I can put a bit less distrust on this bank than others.
I was thinking of Cambridge, and then I got a bit homesick for a minute, 'cause I never been this far away from home before. But the I remember you're here, and now I'm not homesick no more.
how I wish I could fist a bit of old-fashioned beef in the fore-castle, as I used to when i was before the mast.
Sometimes I get so immersed in my own company, if I unexpectedly run into someone I know, it's a bit of a shock and takes me a while to adjust.
I'm usually a bit awkward in houses that I haven't been to before, so it's a way to not look weird. If I find something I've read before it automatically makes me more comfortable.
Freddy Mercury's reflections about supersonic women are making me glad that I've never met one: they sound like a bit of a handful - not very easy-going.
Her body was spattered with tiny bits of the reverend’s flesh and blood, like someone had combined shrimp and tomato soup and then forgot to put the lid on the blender.
His eyes widened just a bit, his lips flexed. I realized he was trying not to laugh. I hate it when people find my threats amusing.
The opening notes of a song began, some plucking of guitar strings. I knew the melody. It was Maroon 5’s “She Will Be Loved.” As pop songs went, it was pretty damn good, a bit of a favorite of mine.
She turns to us, acts surprised to see us, then does the bit with the back of the hand to the forehead. "You're lost!" "You're angry!" "You're in the wrong school!" "You're in the wrong country!" "You're on the wrong planet!
Many people have said to me that I’m a mystic. I find that a bit mysterious. I just use logic and common sense for my philosophies.
