I am one pair of roses away from the grave,” I told the midget with the twelve-inch erection. It wasn’t his—he was just holding it for a friend (that impressive penis belonged to a much taller man). Ah, but that’s life, no?
In the morning, when she walked to the consulate, carefully watching her sandals on the pavement, she glanced up and saw a Negro wearing a stack of panama hats. Maybe twelve. She never forgot the bandoeon of brims, the perfect stutter of hat.
Out of curiosity, when do I grow up and become a fullfledged man with a penis?” “When words like ‘hump day’ don’t make you giggle like a twelve-year-old,” he retorted, blowing smoke my way. “Wow, that long?
Fate gives all of us three teachers, three friends, three enemies, and three great loves in our lives. But these twelve are always disguised, and we can never know which one is which until we’ve loved them, left them, or fought them.
Why is it that children, taught the names of the months and the fact that there are twelve of them, don't ask why the ninth is called the seventh (September), the tenth called the eight (October), the eleventh called the ninth (November), the twelfth...
If we all had an additional twelve hours a day, think of how far mankind could advance in just a year! That’s exactly what I’d be thinking about while I was sleeping twenty hours a day.
All in all, the lunch date was fine. Like an opened can of soda in its second hour. If you were thirsty, you might take a sip or two, but I carried more hopes walking in to the restaurant than I did walking out.
We can either emphasize those aspects of our traditions, religious or secular, that speak of hatred, exclusion, and suspicion work with those that stress the interdependence and equality of all human beings. The choice is yours. (22)
Saint Augustine … insisted that scripture taught nothing but charity. Whatever the biblical author may have intended, any passage that seemed to preach hatred and was not conducive to love must be interpreted allegorically and made to speak of char...
I'm not sure Kinsey has changed in these first twelve books. I think the reader learns more about her, but from Kinsey's perspective, only three years have passed while the rest of us have been getting older at a much faster clip.
The tree (of Islam) is of artificial planting. Instead of containing within itself the germ of growth and adaptation to the various requirements of time and clime and circumstance, expanding with the genial sunshine and rain from heaven, it remains t...
Too many pitchers, that's all, there are just too many pitchers Ten or twelve on a team. Don't see how any of them get enough work. Four starting pitchers and one relief man ought to be enough. Pitch 'em every three days and you'd find they'd get con...
Ever thought, that the only thing a man can do for ten/twelve hours a day is work. He can't eat for ten hours; he can't drink for ten hours; he can't make love for ten hours. The only thing a man can do for ten hours is #work.
Ever since I was twelve, I dreamed of being an author. I just never had the fortitude to see any of my stories through to completion. I would start a book, get a few chapters in, and grow bored or get distracted by something else.
When i was 9 I didn't go to Narnia, when i grew 11 my Hogwarts letter didn't come, again when i was twelve my satyr didn't come and now I'll wait till I'm fifty maybe the hunger games will come
For me, I need to fully immerse myself in a script to the point where I'm literally locking myself away for weeks at a time and I just write it. So I can write twelve to fifteen hours in a day, with breaks in between, obviously, but I need to just so...
Sister Aloysius Beauvier: What happened in the rectory? Father Brendan Flynn: Happened? Nothing happened. I had a talk with a boy. Sister Aloysius Beauvier: About what? Father Brendan Flynn: Private matter. Sister Aloysius Beauvier: He's twelve years...
Shrunken Head: Ernie, little old lady at twelve o'clock! [the Knight Bus screeches to a halt] Shrunken Head: Ten... nine... eight... seven... six... five... four... 'tree'... 'tree' and a half... two... one and 'tree' quarters... YES!
Rizzo the Rat: Rats don't understand these things. Gonzo: You were never a lonely child? Rizzo the Rat: I had twelve hundred and seventy four brothers and sisters. Gonzo: Boy! Rats don't understand these things!
Dr. Kathryn Railly: What is the matter with your leg? James Cole: Got shot. Dr. Kathryn Railly: Shot! Who shot you? James Cole: I don't know. It was some kind of war. Never mind. You wouldn't believe me anyway.
There is but one truly serious philosophical problem and that is suicide. Judging whether life is or is not worth living amounts to answering the fundamental question of philosophy. All the rest — whether or not the world has three dimensions, whet...
