A Quote by Bob Geldof

Tell me why...... I don't like Mondays. — © Bob Geldof
Tell me why...... I don't like Mondays.

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Tell me why the stars do shine, Tell me why the ivy twines, Tell me what makes skies so blue, And I'll tell you why I love you. Nuclear fusion makes stars to shine, Tropisms make the ivy twine, Raleigh scattering make skies so blue, Testicular hormones are why I love you.
Why didn’t you tell me there was danger? Why didn’t you warn me? Ladies know what to guard against, because they read novels that tell them of these tricks; but I never had the chance of discovering in that way; and you did not help me!
I like hanging out with me, and I've accepted everything about me good, bad whatever it is. That's why I'm able to, that's why no one can tell me anything negative about myself.
Tell me why you're so hard to forget. Don't remind me, I'm not over it. Tell me why, I can't seem to face the truth, I'm just a little too not over you.
do you have to sit so close?" she asked on a ragged breath. "Yes." was his only reply. "want to tell me why?" "no." (Darius replied) "i don't like it." She insisted scooting from him for the second time. He moved closer "want to tell me why?" he parroted. "No" she parroted right back.
My dad finds Twitter just infinitely unrelatable. He's like, 'Why would I want to tell anybody what I had for a snack, it's private?!' And I'm like, 'Why would you even have a snack if you didn't tell anybody? Why bother eating?'
Even when my mum used to edit the paper she would come home, put us to bed and then go back to the office. She must have been exhausted. She worked on Sunday papers so I always had her on Mondays. I loved Mondays! She would always be waiting for me outside school. I remember feeling very loved.
Vera said: 'Why do you feel you have to turn everything into a story?' So I told her why: Because if I tell the story, I control the version. Because if I tell the story, I can make you laugh, and I would rather have you laugh at me than feel sorry for me. Because if I tell the story, it doesn't hurt as much. Because if I tell the story, I can get on with it.
Tell me I'm clever, Tell me I'm kind, Tell me I'm talented, Tell me I'm cute, Tell me I'm sensitive, Graceful and wise, Tell me I'm perfect - But tell me the truth.
I meet you. I remember you. Who are you? You’re destroying me. You’re good for me. How could I know this city was tailor-made for love? How could I know you fit my body like a glove? I like you. How unlikely. I like you. How slow all of a sudden. How sweet. You cannot know. You’re destroying me. You’re good for me. You’re destroying me. You’re good for me. I have time. Please, devour me. Deform me to the point of ugliness. Why not you? Why not you in this city and in this night, so like other cities and other nights you can hardly tell the difference? I beg of you.
I don't like thinking 'Why me, why me, why me?' when I was diagnosed with cancer because that would be hypocritical. I didn't say 'Why me?' when I was one in a thousand who made it as a professional footballer.
I'm not interested in hearing yet another rapper tell me why he's the best. Why not tell a story set in a specific time and place? Create some characters, add a little bit of action and you're good to go.
People will tell me, "You're such a punk rebel," this or that, but I was not that growing up. I was actually a super-sheltered, conservative girl. Now, there was probably a bit of me that was like, "Why do I have to be like that?"
If you will tell me why the fen appears impassable, I then will tell you why I think that I can cross it if I try.
No, I can just read you. Finally. I can't believe how blind I was. I can't believe I never noticed. Victor's comment...he was right." She glanced off at the sunset, then turned her gaze back on me. A flash of anger, both in her feelings and her eyes, hit me. "Why didn't you tell me?" she cried. "Why didn't you tell me you loved Dimitri?
I look back on some of my outfits, and I'm like: 'Why did I wear that? Where are my friends and why didn't they tell me not to leave the house?' If they had, I probably would've said, 'You don't know what you're talking about. This looks amazing.'
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