A Quote by Tracy Morgan

My father said: "If you want to catch your girl cheating, you knock on the front door and run to the back, because he's coming out the back." — © Tracy Morgan
My father said: "If you want to catch your girl cheating, you knock on the front door and run to the back, because he's coming out the back."
He wore his happiness like a mask and the girl had run off across the lawn with the mask and there was no way of going to knock on her door and ask for it back.
I think every girl needs a good lip split story, I have one. I fell onto my front door doorknob coming back from the mailbox, once.
Just hearing somebody's voice in center field, it helps our guards out to know where they need to go, when the screen is coming, when the back door is coming, when the flare is coming. When different things like that happen and we're talking, it helps us all out in the long run.
I always want my players to show class, knock'em down, pat on the back, and run back to the huddle.
He bent, lips coming to mine and — 'Derek? Chloe?' It was Kit, opening the back door. Derek let out a low growl. 'Never fails.' I turned to Kit. 'How is she?' 'We’re going to take her back to the house now. She’s unconscious again.' 'Then we’ll walk back,' Derek said. 'Give you room in the van to lay her down.' His dad agreed and went back inside. As we walked toward the steps, I looked down at Derek’s hand, holding mine. 'No one’s around,' he said. 'And we can take the back way.' 'Good,' I said, and entwined my fingers with his.
One of the last times that we played in the area before I wrote "Allentown," I remember a guy coming up to us and saying, "You're never coming back here." I said, "Why do you say that?" He said, "Well, you're probably gonna become a big star. Nobody who ever becomes big comes back here." And I felt so sad for this kid, he seemed so bitter about it. I said, "Well, I'm coming back, no matter what."
While your client is watching for you at the front door, slip out at the back.
I think rappers are the fall guy because some of us don't have the wits to point the finger back. The thing is when you take a whole generation and whip them out, string the mothers out and put the fathers in jail - the reason I know respect is because my father is the mediator between me and my grandfather. I'm the mediator between my son and my father because I'm old enough to understand where my father is coming from and young enough to understand what my kid is trying to do. When you whip out the mediator the kids run wild and the old people are scared of them.
Leave your front door and your back door open. Allow your thoughts to come and go. Just don't serve them tea.
We have to find the back door to peoples' hearts because the front door is heavily guarded.
But how can you walk away from something and still come back to it?" "Easy," said the cat. "Think of somebody walking around the world. You start out walking away from something and end up coming back to it." "Small world," said Coraline. "It's big enough for her," said the cat. "spiders' webs only have to be large enough to catch flies." Coraline shivered.
I can walk through the front door of any factory and out the back and tell you if it's making money or not. I can just tell by the way it's being run and by the spirit of the workers.
Put yourself in Hamlet's shoes. Suppose you were a prince, and you came back from college to discover that your uncle had murdered your father and married your mother, and you fell in love with a beautiful girl and mistakenly murdered her father, and then she went crazy and drowned herself. What would you do? Go back for a masters?
Come on! Don't hold back," Christian said. "I'm not, " Lissa protested. "You are too! I've seen you knock on a door harder than you're hitting me. " "That's a ridiculous metaphor. " "And, " he added, "you aren't aiming for my face. " "I don't want to leave a mark!" "Well, at the rate we're going, there's no danger of that, " he muttered
Say something in Mandarin,” said Tessa, with a smile. Jem said something that sounded like a lot of breathy vowels and consonants run together, his voice rising and falling melodically: “Ni hen piao liang.” “What did you say?” Tessa was curious. “I said your hair is coming undone — here,” he said, and reached out and tucked an escaping curl back behind her ear. Tessa felt the blood spill hot up into her face, and was glad for the dimness of the carriage. “You have to be careful with it,” he said, taking his hand back, slowly, his fingers lingering against her cheek.
It's not as if the stories merge to a point where you think they are your life, but you do let them in the front door and the back door, and it's okay that sometimes certain characters stay for dinner.
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