A Quote by Bonnie Blair
Even though I enjoy that head-to-head competition part, one of the things that drove me to long track was if I won or if I lost I want to know it's all on my shoulders and it didn't have anything to do with anybody else.
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I hit my head against the wall because I don't want to know all the terrible things that I know about. I don't want to feel all these wretched things, but they're in me already. If I don't get rid of them, I'm not ever going to feel anything else.
I think I tried to separate indoors and out. And so when he beat me indoors, I did not see that as letting anybody down, I saw it as a good head to head competition, and so it was. It was fine.
To be a textual critic requires aptitude for thinking and willingness to think; and though it also requires other things, those things are supplements and cannot be substitutes. Knowledge is good, method is good, but one thing beyond all others is necessary; and that is to have a head, not a pumpkin, on your shoulders and brains, not pudding, in your head.
When you're undocumented, you're supposed to keep your head down and be quiet and pay taxes, social security - even though people don't know that we do those things - and not say anything.
That's why I don't live in L.A. First of all, I don't have the money. But second, I want to stay grounded, to be surrounded by real people, to have my head on my shoulders instead of losing track of reality.
I know my head isn't screwed on straight. I want to leave, transfer, warp myself to another galaxy. I want to confess everything, hand over the guilt and mistake and anger to someone else. There is a beast in my gut, I can hear it scraping away at the inside of my ribs. Even if I dump the memory, it will stay with me, staining me. My closest is a good thing, a quiet place that helps me hold these thoughts inside my head where no one can hear them.
To do anything to a high level it has to be total obsession. Ask José Mourinho, he wouldn't know a thing about me, my sport - he knows football, and to get to high levels you have to be insane, nothing else means anything. I respect all forms of movement and lifestyles, but I am in a bubble. I wake up, it is in my head; I go to sleep, it's in my head, 24/7.
Heart weeps. Head tries to help heart. Head tells heart how it is, again: You will lose the ones you love. They will all go. But even the earth will go, someday. Heart feels better, then. But the words of head do not remain long in the ears of heart. Heart is so new to this. I want them back, says heart. Head is all heart has. Help, head. Help heart.
Keep your head on your shoulders - even when you think your head is on your shoulders, sometimes it isn't!
The worst thing that could possibly happen to anybody would be to not be used for anything by anybody. Thank you for using me, even though I didn't want to be used by anybody.
Even though Wisconsin is the only place I want to be, there was a time when everything felt like it was imploding in my head. It was a whole lot of "me" and it was a little unbearable at times - borderline embarrassing, even. It didn't last long, though, and as soon as I got home everything flooded back. It all boils down to that common denominator of stillness and trying to self-discover - I guess it just feels good when I'm there.
It's hard for an educated woman to turn her head off. That's part of the joy of being a submissive. None of the decisions are yours. When you can't refuse anything and can't even move, those voices in your head go silent. All you can do, and all you are permitted to do, is feel.
I'm not afraid of doing anything. I have no fear. It's made me pretty confident in that I can have a plane flown over my head or I can go head-to-head with an alligator or with a python, and it's all okay and it's so fun.
What do you want? "To know you," she said without hesitation. "All of you. I want to know what makes you feel good." "Your laughter," he said without hesitation. "Feeling your hands on me. The way you look at me, whether I've been a complete dumbass, or just made you come-" With a laugh, she ducked her head, but he dipped his down until she was looking at him again. "You want to know what scared me?" he asked. "Yes" He leaned even closer and slid a hand to the nape of her neck. "The thought of never having those things with you again." -Chloe and Sawyer (Head over Heels)
I didn't know anything about writers. It never occurred to me they were regular people and that I could grow up to become one, even though I loved to make up stories inside my head.
The whole experience has really stayed with me. Dunsfold pops into my head at the strangest times, and I run the track through in my head. 'I can go faster there and there...'
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