A Quote by Bill Hicks
I have something to tell you non-smokers that I know for a fact that you don't know, and I feel it's my duty to pass on information at all times. Ready?. . . . Non-smokers die every day . . . Enjoy your evening. See, I know that you entertain this eternal life fantasy because you've chosen not to smoke, but let me be the 1st to POP that bubble and bring you hurling back to reality . . . You're dead too.
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Smokers in our culture are hated and despised. Smokers, people look down on 'em, don't want anything to do with them. Smokers are really the modern incarnation of evil, and yet smokers, because of all the taxes they are paying, are funding most of the children's health care programs the federal government has.
Mom was a smoker. My grandfather was a smoker. My aunts were smokers. My uncles were smokers. I don't know any smokers now, not even my mom.
Still. Smokers out there, you know what I'm talking about. That moment, after you've had a huge meal, say at Thanksgiving, when you step outside in the cold, light up a cigarette and take a deep inhale ... that's about the best moment in the world, you know? All the smokers out there, you know that feeling. Sometimes, smoking is fantastic.
They know you can't get people to stop smoking, so they develop a system of informants. That's the whole idea of second-hand smoke, you know. Make second-hand smoke dangerous and turn everybody against smokers. Then they say you can't even smoke in a bar - a bar! - because bartenders have a right to a smoke-free "workspace." Ah, bartenders, those health nuts.
Racist people, interestingly, are never as polite as smokers. Have you noticed that? Smokers always go, "Do you mind if I smoke? Oh, you do? Okay, I'll go outside and have a cigarette."
Let the smokers and the gluttons die... and leave the living to us who know how to use it.
I don't operate on smokers. I tell cigarette smokers that I can operate on you, I get paid the same. And you might even do well. But it's the wrong thing to do. So I refuse to operate on you until you stop smoking.
I know the odds are all against me and I know you might not feel this way too but I know I would rather die trying to know if I could mean something to you
I was never young. Whoever I was then is dead. That's more of your quills. I don't want a hide full, thanks. I have always figured that you die each day and and each day is a is a box, you see, all numbered and neat; but never go back and lift the lids, because you have died a couple thousand times in your life, and that's a lot of corpses, each dead a different way, each with a worse expression. Each of those days is a different you, somebody you don't know or understand or want to understand.
Sure smokers have made personal choices. And they pay for those choices every day, whether sitting through an airline flight dyingfor a smoke, or dying for a smoke in the oncology wing of a hospital. The tobacco companies have not paid nearly enough for the killing.
I know what it's like to be so distracted by your surroundings and in the moment that it's seemingly impossible to not get caught up in 'em. I know what it's like to feel so much smaller than the activities of your environment that you can't see how not to succumb to 'em. I know what it's like to not be able to focus in class due to real life hunger pangs. I know what it's like to be disruptive just to pass the time and take your mind off what's lacking at home. I know what it's like to be laughed at by your teacher when you tell them what you hope to be in life.
When you're waking up every day, and it's all about you, I don't consider that to be a way to live your life if you can help it. I think people who know me know that I find time to enjoy myself and not take life - or myself - too seriously at all.
Here is the key to existence. Are you listening? Here is the key to existence; when I tell you this you will know how to run your lives. You will know if you have been living life to the full, and if you realize you haven't been, you will know immediately how to correct that state of affairs. As soon as I tell you the key to existence. Are you ready? Are you ready for me to tell you?... Always breathe. That's the basis of life, breathing. That's basically the basis. If you don't breathe, you die.
Men always want to die for something. For someone. I can see the appeal. You do it once and it’s done. No more worrying, not knowing, about tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. I know you all think it sounds brave, but I’ll tell you something even braver. To struggle and fight for the ones you love today. And then do it all over again the next day. Every day. For your whole life. It’s not as romantic, I admit. But it takes a lot of courage to live for someone, too.
Just because you "liked" my picture, doesn't mean you shouldn't call me and ask me how I'm doing. You know what's funny? If you ever owe someone a call, and it's something you're trying to avoid, notice how many times they "like" your photos until you call them back. It's an alarm, and people abuse that. They know you can see that. They know you'll see their name.
Look, there’s nothing I’m ever going to tell you about me that’s the truth. The more you know about me, the shorter your life span is going to be. All you need to know is that I don’t miss. In fact, you don’t even need to know exactly how good I really am, because if you ever find out, you’re going to be dead. (Steele)
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