A Quote by Ben Schwalb

They can have my beer when they pry it out of my cold, dead hand. — © Ben Schwalb
They can have my beer when they pry it out of my cold, dead hand.

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You'll get my assault weapon when you pry it out of my curious six-year-old's cold dead hands.
You can have my gun when you pry it from my cold, dead fingers.
I'll retire when they pry my cold, dead fingers off of my Bible.
Speaking personally, you can have my gun, but you'll take my book when you pry my cold, dead fingers off of the binding.
I intend to do the Penn & Teller show until they pry my cheesy magic wand from my cold dead fingers.
I tell you, Mr. Okada, a cold beer at the end of the day is the best thing life has to offer. Some choosy people say that a too cold beer doesn't taste good, but I couldn't disagree more. The first beer should be so cold you can't even taste it. The second one should be a little less chilled, but I want that first one to be like ice. I want it to be so cold my temples throb with pain. This is my own personal preference of course.
To the divisive forces that would take freedom away, I want to tell you something: You can have my gun. You can pry it from my cold dead hands!
Cold be hand and heart and bone, and cold be sleep under stone: never more to wake on stony bed, never, till the Sun fails and the Moon is dead. In the black wind the stars shall die, and still on gold here let them lie, till the dark lord lifts his hand over dead sea and withered land.
You'd have to get my money out of my cold dead hand before I gambled it away.
Join me in standing up against any actual knowledge about guns. Let the CDC know they can take away our ignorance when the pry it from our cold dead minds.
It hurts when God has to PRY things out of our hand!
The dead think they can get away with anything because you'll feel sorry for them. If you play cards with the dead, make sure you deal and don't let them buy you drinks. They'll slip you a formaldehyde roofie and pry the gold fillings out of your teeth.
All you can hold in your cold dead hand is what you have given away.
Oh, this beer here is cold, cold and hop-bitter, no point coming up for air, gulp, till it's all--hahhhh.
Not Waving but Drowning Nobody heard him, the dead man, But still he lay moaning: I was much further out than you thought And not waving but drowning. Poor chap, he always loved larking And now he's dead It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way, They said. Oh, no no no, it was too cold always (Still the dead one lay moaning) I was much too far out all my life And not waving but drowning.
We had a world dominated by the Soviet Union on the one hand, and the Americans on the other hand. They called it the Cold War. But it wasn't cold. I am someone who comes from the third world. In the third world, the cold war wasn't cold. Millions had been killed. It was a proxy war.
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