Yeah, equal pay for equal work and our bodies ourselves and Gloria Steinem and all that jazz...but in that dusty dark little corner of every woman's heart where we keep our maps of Tierra del Fuego lives the hunger to fetch a powerful man his slipper...
To save your life from prodigal waste, you must have good ideas. God may give you an idea that he may send someone to pay for. Surely, if you hide that idea, you may not meet the person meant to finance it!
You see? That's the point. It's all a big guess. They hope, they pray, they cook and garden and get a better job to pay the mortgage and read dirty books to keep bedtime interesting, but they don't know. There are no guarantees. Sometimes you just st...
Today, I challenge you to pay it forward. You don't need to save a village—only one lost soul. Be the reflection of Christ and shine His light. The cost is little, but the reward is rich.
I was delighted to see him growing more cautious and skeptical about what he heard, especially when he heard it from someone in apparent authority. I think that is fundamental to a good education. And if it comes back to bite me from time to time, th...
Who else is going to do this job? What do you think that classified ad would read like? 'Dangerous job fighting otherworldly beings, no pay, fame or glory. Death possible. Slobber likely. Injuries always. Must distance yourself from family and friend...
A brick could be used to foretell the future. But I’m the only one alive who knows how to make it work, and my occult knowledge can be rented out to you for $9.99 per minute. Call now, as supplies are limited. (Technically there’s only one future...
A brick could be used in the same manner as a magician’s hat could be used as a basketball. I’m not suggesting a brick replace a basketball, because that’d be silly. But not as silly as the idea of paying people millions of dollars to put a rub...
You're not allowed to stay in a hotel room on your own if you're under 18. I used to bring an older friend, but then I would go to pay for the room, and they'd say, 'You can't do that either.' I understand there has to be a rule, but it's frustrating...
Those leaders who are conscious of theirs and their organization's values are quick to take bold actions than those who aren't yet attuned. And that is why many companies are willing to pay them in millions.
Your life depends on a random stranger who could kill you, will probably disrespect you, and will most likely pay you much less than you deserve. But even those prospects are better than the ones you used to have. This is the life of los jornaleros �...
Sometimes they would just pay me to stay home and not do anything else, which sounds fantastic but doesn't do much for your ego. Its probably a little like getting alimony-the money is nice but has a nasty aftertaste.
I try to pay bills as efficiently as I can, and work hard, and be comfortable in what I've achieved at the end of each day. And I try, most of all, to be a little easier on myself.
Art suffers the moment other people start paying for it. The more you need the money, the more people will tell you what to do. The less control you will have. The more bullshit you will have to swallow. The less joy it will bring.
I couldn't be a doctor. I have no patience for patients, like I do silly puns. But I could be a barista, because I love coffee like I love sex—and that’s why I pay for it.
The homeless dudes on Alameda all have legs any runway model would kill for, and sometimes I think of giving them money, but— I don’t know, I’ve got bills to not pay, and drinks to make people buy for me.
'Venti caramel macchiato, please,' he said. 'Hold the snobbery.' The barista laughed and hit buttons on his register. 'You sure? We're having a sale on social mobility. The longer your coffee order takes to place, the more you have to pay.' 'Perfect....
If there is such a thing as a universal--and I wasn't ready to throw all of mine out the window--it's that there is power in a story. And if someone pays you such a kindness as to make up a tale so you'll enjoy a gingersnap, you go along with that st...
She didn't want the medi-techs. She wanted a fucking candy bar. [...] She reached down [...] and chose a Galaxy bar [...] "I'm going home." "You didn't pay for that," Francois shouted after her. "Fuck you, Frank," she shouted back and kept going.
I don't like it, but my hands are tied. I just want you to know this: if I ever get the chance to betray you, I will. If the opportunity arises to pay you back, I'll take it. You'll never be able to trust me.
You were trying to impress her with a story about getting mauled by a thresher?” “It made sense at the time.” “Ah, youth.” He sighed. “Do you know what I would give to be young again?” “No, what?” “Nothing. In fact, you’d have t...
