Death cuts off possibilities. Even if they were possibilities you never meant to act on, it feels different when they’re gone.
But always, at moments when his mind was like a blind octopus, squirming in an agony of knife-cuts, she would drop in that accusation.
You start to die the moment you are born. The whole of life is cutting through the pack with death. So take it easy.
I believe the vulpine greed of the corporate world is cut from the very same cloth as the tyrant of history.
One way or another the thing had to die. Perpetual springtime is not allowed. You were not cutting the wood of life according to the grain.
Don’t take it so hard, Joel,” Johnson cut in. “After all, prayer is not the monopoly of one.” (Chapter 18)
They really cut to the chase in the urologist’s examination room, and I tried to laugh. If this office were a movie, it would have been rated R.
Memories are dangerous things. You turn them over and over, until you know every touch and corner, but still you'll find an edge to cut you.
I’m the guy who knows how you can hurt so much that your insides feel like they’re cut and bleeding.
I cut an inch off of every straw I see, just to make the world suck a little less.
Seeking excellence means choosing to forge your own sword to cut through the limitations of your life...
Answer me immediately or I'll start cutting away everything that's pretty on you...and then put it back.
Past traumas are like old scars on tissue that never quite healed properly – they occasionally must be cut open, re-examined, and sutured anew.
He’s as tall as a tree, but he fights like a rose bush. What’s with all the scratching? I should cut him down in the name of romance.
Most scars are invisible. Damn transparent knives. Does anything cut deeper than love? I need to get some new body armor.
I want a chainsaw very badly, because I think cutting down a tree would be unbelievably satisfying. I have asked for a chainsaw for my birthday, but I think I'll probably be given jewelry instead.
It's great to be recognized when I'm looking for a table at a crowded restaurant, but I still don't put it to best use. I'm such a lump. I won't cut the line. It's my Catholic guilt. I gotta get used to it.
I always felt that a marriage works best at a farm... where you're together and everybody has clear-cut roles; they have chores, 'you take care of this' and you know. But it's hard.
A strong hatred is the best lamp to bear in our hands as we go over the dark places of life, cutting away the dead things men tell us to revere.
Three scents accompany my memories of this place: cut wood, poppy-seed bread, and the soft, crisp smell of snow.
It was only when the salt water of my tears ran into my cuts and made them sting that I discovered I was crying.
