... time is a master of ceremonies who always ends up putting us in our rightful place, we advance, stop, and retreat according to his orders, our mistake lies in imagining that we can catch him out.
If you knew the mercy I am showing by not dismembering you where you stand for getting in my way, you would not stop thanking me.
It looks like Animal and Miss piggy had sex," I said. "And this was the spawn." "My eyes!" Boomer cried. "My eyes! I can't stop seeing it now that you've said it!
Goodbye," she told him, running her hand across his broad back one last time. "I love you. And I'll never, ever stop missing you.
If you’re mad that I kissed you, I won’t apologize for that.” “No, I’m mad you stopped.” Her face flushed. “I meant,” she tried to rephrase, “I’m mad you left the way you did.
You could have kept on driving and never looked back. No one's ever had to stop for me. Or even hear me. Anyway, you did, and now I'm afraid the time for choice is behind us both.
Don't allow the fear of falling stop you from pursuing your dream. Prepare. Practice. Pray. Jump! It's through the fall that you'll realize you can to fly.
I've come to the point where I never feel the need to stop and evaluate whether or not I am happy. I'm just 'being', and without question, by default, it works.
I’ve done things I’m not proud of and I’m trying really hard to make up for those things by being a decent guy. And decent guys don’t act the way I’ve been acting around you, so I’m going to stop.
I clench my teeth as tears come. I am fed up. I am fed up with tears and weakness. But there isn't much I can do to stop them. ~ 'Tris
I said, 'I need to know how he died.' He flipped back and pointed at, 'Why?' So I can stop inventing how he died. I'm always inventing.
...two different kinds of Japanese psychotherapies, one based on getting people to stop using feelings as an excuse for their actions and the other based on getting people to practice gratitude.
When you stop grabbing for things, sometimes the world just hands them to you, instead. Focusing on others is true success.
The writer who loses his self-doubt, who gives way as he grows old to a sudden euphoria, to prolixity, should stop writing immediately: the time has come for him to lay aside his pen.
...life is in Fate's hands now. You made your choice to stay... it's too late to change that, so stop agonizing over it.... You're making my scales itch. Saphira, from "Eragon
Fuck off with your sofa units and strine green stripe patterns, I say never be complete, I say stop being perfect, I say let... lets evolve, let the chips fall where they may.
My heart had stopped as my world spun around me. I felt all the walls that had begun to crack and crumble slam right back into place as I looked into the eyes of the monster I knew was there all along.
Stop comparing or boast at your victories. He was referring to enormous vitality and strength of God of Jesus seeking union with us. The living acts of a Christian become somehow the acts of Christ.
It's never too late to come home," he said, and pulled me gently, insistently toward him."All you have to do...is stop moving away.
Don't stay away from me anymore." I stop myself, just barely, from telling him I won't. I can't promise that. Can't lie. He opens his eyes. Stares starkly, bleakly. "I you.
My best days are ahead of me and I choose not to let where I’ve been to stop me from where I am going.
