A Quote by Dan Wells
I cursed him then, not because his tears were fake, but because they were real. I cursed him for showing me, with every tear and every smile and every sincere emotion he had, that I was the real freak.
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Miles Davis, my one and only real hero of my life. I met him [because] every time I had a movie interview, I would shift the conversation to jazz. Miles, when I finally met him, he knew he had a sucker walking in the door. Because his people told him, “This guy plays the trumpet and every freakin’ interview he has ever given, he’s talked about you.”
And yes, I'll admit, I am jealous. I'm jealous of every minute you spend with him, of every concerned expression you send his way, of every tear shed, of every glance, every touch, and every thought. I want to rip him to pieces and purge him from your mind and from your heart. But I can't.
For every mother who ever cursed God for her child dead in the road, for every father who ever cursed the man who sent him away from the factory with no job, for every child who was ever born to pain and asked why, this is the answer. Our lives are like these things I build. Sometimes they fall down for a reason, sometimes they fall down for no reason at all.
Cursed?" I offered, my voice croaky because of my unshed tears. "It isn't cursed." John said deliberately, rearranging the chain around my neck, "if you're wearing it. It's blessed.
People in apartheid South Africa can tell you that God cursed black people when they cursed Him. And so the hermetic people were condemned to be drawers of water and of wood.
Andy [Hallett] was a real man - you can tell an adult by how they deal with pain or adversity. Andy's eyeballs gave him searing pain all day every day because of the contacts they used. He was every moment a gentlemen; laughing and joking, wiping the tears from his eyes.
When the fans were watching my dad, you could never tell if this was real or is this fake, and that's what made him so special. Every ounce of energy went to being The Nature Boy.
Every subject's duty is the King's; but every subject's soul is his own. Therefore, should every soldier in the wars do as every sick man in his bed, wash every mote out of his conscience; and dying so, death is to him advantage; or not dying, the time was blessedly lost wherein such preparation was gained; and in him that escapes, it were no sin to think that, making God so free an offer, He let him outlive the day to see His greatness and to teach others how they should prepare.
Then a strange thing happened. She turned to him and smiled, and as he saw her smile every rag of anger and hurt vanity dropped from him — as though his very moods were but the outer ripples of her own, as though emotion rose no longer in his breast unless she saw fit to pull an omnipotent controlling thread.
Women have a smile for every joy, a tear for every sorrow, a consolation for every grief, an excuse for every fault, a prayer for every misfortune, and encouragement for every hope.
I kissed him, trying to bring him back. I kissed him and let my lips rest against his so that our breath mingled and the tears from my eyes became salt on his skin, and I told myself that, somewhere, tiny particles of him would become tiny particles of me, ingested, swallowed, alive, perpetual. I wanted to press every bit of me against him. I wanted to will something into him. I wanted to give him every bit of life I felt and force him to live.
I went to big, broken, under-resourced public schools, but we had a real sense of community, because those were days in the '50s and the '60s when every child was under the jurisdiction of every single adult on the block.
Every comment, every tweet, every snap, every second of my life is viewed and it affects people. It does become daunting, and it can be hard to remain true to my message and to be real and authentic and to not be biased by whatever is thrown at me because of the success that I've had.
The basis of Ronald Reagan was his humanity. I might not have agreed with his politics, but my research - all I read about him and by him - was that he was revered because he had a big heart. He was very religious and sincere. He believed that one spoke truths because, otherwise, people would know you were lying. None of that even applies to Trump.
The moment when a limit is reached, when there is nothing ahead but darkness: something comes in to help that is not real. Another way all this is like madness: a mad person not helped out of his trouble by anything real begins to trust what is not real because it helps him and he needs it because real things continue not to help him.
Who's they?" He wanted to know. "Who, specifically, do you think is trying to murder you?" "Every one of them," Yossarian told him. "Every one of whom?" "Every one of whom do you think?" "I haven't any idea." "Then how do you know they aren't?" "Because..." Clevinger sputtered, and turned speechless with frustration. Clevinger really thought he was right, but Yossarian had proof, because strangers he didn't know shot at him with cannons every time he flew up into the air to drop bombs on them, and it wasn't funny at all.
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