A Quote by Clive Barker

To call you excrement would be an insult to the product of my bowels. — © Clive Barker
To call you excrement would be an insult to the product of my bowels.
To insult someone we call him 'bestial. For deliberate cruelty and nature, 'human' might be the greater insult.
Excess is excrement, ... Excrement retained in the body is a poison.
I can find no room in my cosmos for a deity save as a waste product of human weakness, the excrement of the imagination.
In the Communist era, excrement took on political importance, because Party policy decided excrement was essential for the Great Agricultural Leap Forward.
But I would never insult the people that love this music and I would never insult the blessing of music in my life and I would never insult myself by playing uninspired music.
Even when I rehearse down in the bowels of the Metropolitan Opera, you can't help but think why The Phantom of the Opera was inspired by what happens in the bowels of the opera house.
Koga:"You got a problem with that muttface?" Inuyasha: Did you just call me a mutt?" Koga:"No, you're right. That would be an insult to canines.
You take insult where none is intended, but if you will find insult where none is meant, then perhaps I should try harder to insult on purpose.
In the 1970s people were afraid to call me black because they thought it was an insult. They would say 'coloured.' Now it has gone full circle. It's not an issue. The intention is the most important thing.
I've been told I miss every pass made at me! It would be wonderful to have a partner, but in my mind, it has to be like making a product. The product has to be meaningful, impact people - it has to be a great product.
You would make a great teacher. (Grace) Commander to teacher. Why not call me Cato the Elder, and really insult me while you’re at it? (Julian)
To call this a recovery is an insult to recoveries.
Not only because the product wasn't a great product, but remember it took us five or six years to ship it. Then we had to sort of fix it. That was what I might call Windows 7.
The excrement bubbles, the century slime decays, and the brainwashing government lackeys would have us say it's under control.
Don't call my lyrics poetry. It's an insult to real poets.
I would like to be a figment of my own imagination, but belly and bowels will not permit.
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