Do you realise that people die of boredom in London suburbs? It's the second biggest cause of death amongs the English in general. Sheer boredom...
I loved him, more than anything else in the world and that when he was away it was hard to breath and that I couldn't go through a single second without thinking about him.
For a second, Hardyy felt sorry for her. She really was messed up. 'Nobody is perfect Cheyenne. We can all do better, but do it for yourself, not for me. Not for anyone else.
Hazel, do you enjoy it?' I paused a second, trying to figure out if my response should be calibrated to please Augustus or his parents. 'Most of the people are really nice,' I finally said.
He who gives back at first repulse and without striking the second blow, despairs success, has never been, is not, and never will be, a hero in love, war or business. - Frederick Tudor
How Horrid" has a slightly facetious tone that strikes me as Wildean. It appears to embrace the actual horror--puberty, public disgrace--then at the last second nimbly sidesteps it, laughing.
Ever been in a spelling bee as a kid? That snowy second after the announcement of the word as you sift your brain to see if you can spell it? It was like that, the blank panic.
What's terrible is to pretend that second-rate is first-rate. To pretend that you don't need love when you do; or you like your work when you know quite well you're capable of better.
First of all, I’m not a ‘military type.’ Second, I never proclaimed to be a gentleman of any kind. I just like the facts straight up. There’s no bullshit to wade through to get to the truth." Dylan
There are two ways to find a lost city. The first is to rely on luck alone, the second is to control all the information.
There are large moments in life; but sometimes it is the small moments - the casual moments - that change everything. The second's absent wandering of attention before an accident. The choice to take one road, instead of another.
In cases of distasteful occupation, the second day is generally worse than the first; we return to the rack with all the soreness of the preceding torture in our limbs.
I’d practically groped her under the guise of helping her get out a stain, but still, she looked like she found me about as appealing as second-hand underpants.
-"Great! Fucking! News! What would be the best thing that could ever happen?” -“If after I died, I was reincarnated as Meg White?” -“Okay, the second-best thing.
The failure to think positively can weigh on a cancer patient like a second disease.
...the human being to lack that second skin we call egoism has not yet been born, it lasts much longer than the other one, that bleeds so readily.
And second, everyone is so , but they're all completely accepted. It's like, okay, you have a pumpkin head, and that guy's made of tin, and you're a talking chicken, but what the hell, let's do a road trip.
And though I've lived to be an old man with my very own share of happiness for all the mess I made, I still judge every joyous moment, every victory and revelation against those few seconds of living.
You might want to have Kate close her eyes if you ever want her to sleep with you, asshole. Because once I take off my pants, you’ll always come second.
That night's show was watched by ten million people, so I guess that director at The Second City who said the audience "didn't want to see a sketch with two women" can go shit in his hat.
The only thing that made sense were the thoughts on repeat inside my head: I was about to become the husband of the second woman I’d ever loved. It was almost time. Damn. Shit, yeah! Fuck, yes! I was getting married!
