I don't think he was ever happy unless someone was in love with him, responding to him like filings to a magnet, helping him to explain himself, promising him something. What it was I do not know. Perhaps they promised that there would always be wome...
Hatred. Something almost as physical as walls, pianos, or nurses. She could almost touch the destructive energy leaking out of her body. She allowed the feeling to emerge, regardless of whether it was good or bad; she was sick of self-control, of mas...
Do you remember back at the hotel when you promised that if we lived, you’d get dressed up in a nurse’s outfit and give me a sponge bath?" asked Jace. "It was Simon who promised you the sponge bath." "As soon as I’m back on my feet, handsome," ...
We know how to be doctors, nurses, lawyers. We know how to be tweeters. We know how to be everything. But how do you just be people? How do you be present with one another? How do you be honest with one another? How do you be compassionate towards on...
When I was growing up, I was teased for being too skinny. I went to summer camp when I was 11. I wore shorts, and the nurse said to me, in front of all my friends, that I was anorexic and that she had to monitor me to make sure I was eating. Because ...
[first lines] Radio announcer: It's a sunny, woodsy day in Lumberton, so get those chainsaws out. This is the mighty W.O.O.D., the musical voice of Lumberton. At the sound of the falling tree, it's 9:30. There's a whole lotta wood waitin' out there, ...
Colonel Blake: We have our slight periods here, but when the action starts, you'll get more work in 12 hours than a civili... Hawkeye Pierce: How many nurses do we have on the base, sir? Colonel Blake: Seventeen. Hawkeye Pierce: How many will be on m...
Pop Fisher: My ma urged me to get out of this game. When I was a kid, she pleaded with me. And I meant to, you know what I mean? But she died. Red Blow: Tough. Pop Fisher: Now look at me. I'm wet nurse to a last-place, dead-to-the-neck-up ball club, ...
It's just this: that there are places we all come from-deep-rooty-common places- that makes us who we are. And we disdain them or treat them lightly at our peril. We turn our backs on them at the risk of self-contempt. There is a sense in which we ne...
Contention with all its variations is one of the most destructive forces in home and society. Lying and stealing are only extensions of basic problems in the home environment. Some psychologists of the day would label such malfunctions as 'normal.' '...
Sloane: What are we going to do? Ferris: The question isn't "what are we going to do," the question is "what aren't we going to do?" Cameron: Please don't say were not going to take the car home. Please don't say were not going to take the car home. ...
Hamish: There's somebody coming. Campbell: MacGregors from the next clan. MacGregor: We heard about what was happenin' and don't want you "Amadans" thinkin' you can have your fun without us. William Wallace: Go home. Some of us are in this; can't hel...
We are earthbound creatures, Maggie had thought. No matter how tempting the sky. No matter how beautiful the stars. No matter how deep the dream of flight. We are creatures of the earth. Born with legs, not wings, legs that root us to the earth, and ...
You know that point in your life when you realize that the house you grew up in isn’t really your home anymore… All of the sudden, even though you have some place to put your shit, that idea of home is gone… Or maybe it's like this rite of pass...
Ultimately humanity is one, and this small planet is our only home. If we're to protect this home of ours, each of us needs to experience a vivid sense of universal altruism and compassion.
I never met an addict who came from a nice home . I've met addicts that came from families that had money and nice houses. But never from a nice home.
You can go home again, the General Temporal Theory asserts, so long as you understand that home is a place where you have never been.
Dutton, the home of Winnie the Pooh, would find a second identity as a home for gay fiction.
Everyone should feel comfortable they are going to remain in their homes until their dying days. We should never be uneasy or unsure of where our home is in the United States of America.
I suppose that a lifetime spent hiding one's erotic truth could have a cumulative renunciatory effect. Sexual shame is in itself a kind of death.
The whole world is like an opened candy jar, and we're plunging in for the best treats
