[after the final battle, Taylor picks up an AK-47 and encounters a wounded Barnes] Sgt. Barnes: Get me a medic. Go on, boy! [Taylor refuses to budge, and aims the AK-47 at Barnes] Sgt. Barnes: Do it. [Taylor shoots Barnes three times, killing him]
Fouad: Why don't they separate her from medical instruments? Samir: Because they don't know if she wants to live with them or die. Fouad: She wants to die. Samir: Why do you say that? Fouad: She wants to die. That's why she committed suicide!
Captain Miller: [shouting] Bangalores, clear the shingle. Private: Fire in the hole. Sergeant Horvath: Fire in the hole. Private: Fire in the hole. Private: [lights his bangalore] Medic Wade: Fire in the hole. [Bangalors blow up and the barbed wire i...
It was in August or September of 1995 that I met Diana, Princess of Wales. Diana and I met through Oonagh Toffolo, whose husband was recovering from heart surgery at the Royal Brompton. At the time, I was working for Professor Yacoub, the heart surge...
I had parents who believed I could do anything - and I know how that made me feel. I think both my parents, having careers in the medical profession, feel they are helping people on a daily basis, and that was inculcated in me as a value. I had to st...
My eating habits are the only behaviour of mine that are still manic. I can't walk by a restaurant, a bakery, an ice-cream store or a candy store without making a purchase; the amount of calories I take in today are at least five times as many as I t...
But in high school the business of irrevocable choices began. Doors slipped shut with a faint locking click that was only heared clearly in the dreams of later years.
The percentage of couples who stay together after high school is, like, less than five percent, you guys.
YOU YOU YOU your eyes, thick as a high school scrapbook crackling and yellow, curling at the edges a book of myths in which i do not appear.
Friendship (as the ancients saw) can be a school of virtue; but also (as they did not see) a school of vice. It is ambivalent. It makes good men better and bad men worse.
High school sucked. It was a universal truth, and whoever said these were supposed to be the best years of your life was probably drunk or delusional.
Could be an amazing product, sell like condoms at a high school prom, donuts at a police convention, sunscreen on a Caribbean crush ship.
I studied with a blind teacher from about 5 until I was 16, at two different schools. From the age of 12 until 16, I was in a boarding school-which, I believe, at that time was compulsory for blind children.
I surfed competitively from age 13 to 18. Every day, before and after school. I wanted to surf for the rest of my life. It's what all my friends did - I even had it as a subject in school for a number of years.
In this knowledge-worker age, it's now increasingly tied to doing well in school so you can get into better grad schools so you can get better jobs - so the pressure to do well is really high.
There are no college courses to build up self-esteem or high school or elementary school. If you don't get those values at a early age, nurtured in your home, you don't get them.
I would leave school every day and walk to my grandparents' house under the El because everyone worked. I was 6 and walking home alone from school. It was a different city and a different time.
When I walked to school in the mornings I would start out alone but would pick up four other boys along the way. We would set out together after school across the village green.
I went to art school in Chicago for a year at Columbia College. I had this whole master plan of getting into sustainable development and green architecture and construction, so I wanted to go to business school and then get my masters in construction...
My initial plan was to spend a year in France, go to some kind of school and learn a bit of French. I went a year in an American college in the outskirts of Strasbourg, but got a glimpse of a real art school, L'Ecole des Arts Decoratifs, and enrolled...
I left school at 16 and my mother got me a job as a trainee wine taster. But one day I followed some girls into St Martin's art school and saw a voluptuous woman sitting on a stool being sketched. I decided to get myself fired.
