A Quote by Christine Feehan

My camping days are over, but I might consider glamping. — © Christine Feehan
My camping days are over, but I might consider glamping.
When Reg died and we first looked into getting a new dog, I was adamant we should pick up a mongrel from an animal-rescue shelter. It's not only that they're usually healthier and have better temperaments, they also fit with my world view - I prefer a ballpoint to a fountain pen, a barber to a hair stylist, and camping over glamping.
It's true: What one person might consider 'hate speech,' another might consider to be harmless, or even funny.
Camping is not a date; it's an endurance test. If you can survive camping with someone, you should marry them on the way home.
I went camping for 33 days, and now everybody seems to care.
We're not much of a camping family. When I was in Cub Scouts, we went camping once, and my dad snored the whole time and kept me up. It wasn't that fun.
I do a lot of walking around in game parks, rain forests, places like that, but it's not like I'm camping in them as much as my day walks. I've done that all over the world, not like with a backpack on my back living out in the woods for several days. When I travel abroad, it's more the city that captures my interest.
Camping has become one of my most beloved pastimes. I take a fierce delight in swinging a pak o my back or into a canoe and heading for the hills or lakes. In my opinion, camping can be the greatest expression of free will, personal independence, innate ability, and resourcefulness possible today in our industrialized, urbanized existence. Regardless of how miserable or how splendid the circumstances, the sheer experience of camping seems a total justification for doing it.
My camping experiences have been miserable. Beginning with my mother sending us off for summer camping with Forest School Camps. I swear the tents were WW1 army surplus.
I'm such a control freak that camping, for me, is difficult. I can't be this crazy, carefree person that wears the same outfit for four days.
I love camping, everything about it - tents, the camping stove, sleeping bags. I'm obsessed with technology, be it synthesizers and speakers or tents and Gore-Tex.
Climbing a big wall over several days is like running a giant construction project: constantly making lists, rigging ropes, organising food, figuring out camera angles - but you're in this crazy place with your best friends, and it does take on a party atmosphere sometimes, like a big dudes' camping trip.
On some days in prison you might just need to get out of there, but on some days - not all days, but some - you might be able to see the sky and see the blue in it.
I grew up camping with my family. We took so many trips. We had an RV, actually, when we were growing up. We did a ton of camping trips and went across the country.
The death, and the burial, and the resurrection of Jesus happened over three days. Friday was the day of suffering and pain and agony. Saturday was the day of doubt and confusion and misery. But Easter, that Sunday, was the day of hope and joy and victory. You will face these three days over and over and over in your lifetime. And when you do, you’ll find yourself asking, as I did, three fundamental questions: Number one, what do I do in my days of pain? Two, how do I get through my days of doubt and confusion? Three, how do I get to the days of joy and victory? The answer is Easter.
Certainly with stage, as I'm remembering, you don't get to spend any time at home. With film, you might do three, four days a week, and they might not be full days. So that aspect of it was a consideration. But I also just wanted to try different kinds of working.
If people are watching me 365 days a year, 360 days they might be bored to tears. And on the other five days, maybe I would qualify as Satan.
This site uses cookies to ensure you get the best experience. More info...
Got it!