A Quote by David Levithan
me: why is it upset? shouldn't it be downset? gideon: i will file a lawsuit against the dictionaries first thing tomorrow morning. we're going to tear merriam a new asshole and throw webster inside of it.
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Why is it upset? Shouldn't it be downset?
I am amazed at the seeker of purity
When time for polishing comes
Complaints of harsh treatment
Love is a lawsuit
Without evidence, you will not win
My son, when one beats the rug The beating is not intended against the rug
But against the dust inside the rug
My son, that harsh treatment
Is not intended against you
But against the ill qualities inside you
I doubt anything will really come of this lawsuit. First of all, it's a lawsuit. It involves a subpoena. And try to find a Republican who will be willing to be seen serving a black man.
I've never filed a patent lawsuit. I hope never to file a patent lawsuit. That may be unrealistic, but it would be great if I could avoid doing it... Lawsuits are a ridiculous way to do business.
But the bottom line is, no matter what, even if I shoot 90 tomorrow, I'm going to enjoy it. Maybe people will say "Oh, he blew it" or whatever. Maybe I'm going to blow it, it's the first time I've ever been there. What do you expect? You know I'm not number one in the world. My knees are going to touch each other on the first tee tomorrow. But let me tell you, I'm going to enjoy it.
Get up tomorrow early in the morning, and earlier than you did today, and do the best that you can. Always stay near me, for tomorrow I will have much to do and more than I ever had, and tomorrow blood will leave my body above the breast.
Rest against my heart. Let me watch over your dreams. And know that tomorrow morning, and every morning after that, you'll awaken next to someone who loves you.
I wanted to sail when I was in grammar school and well remember memorizing the names of the sails from the Merriam-Webster's ponderous dictionary in the library. Now I am actually at sea - as a passenger, of course, but at sea nevertheless - and bound for Ecuador.
The morning brought with it, if not a brighter outlook, at least a measure of control, some acceptance. Instinctively, I knew that the new tear in my heart would always ache. That was just going to be a part of me now.
I bring up the (Trump University) lawsuit, because it is a lawsuit I am going to win. ... I have thousands of students who loved the school and I've been treated very unfairly in that lawsuit. I don't care if a judge is Mexican or what. What I care about is to be treated fairly.
The party belongs to the millions of the rank and file. It does not belong to the handful of politicians who have assumed fraudulently to upset the will of the rank and file. The action of these men is in no sense "regular," as they claim it to be.... theft and dishonesty cannot give and never shall give a title to regularity.
My first and last love will always be fiction. It's the first thing I do in the morning and the last thing I do at night. I love the novel because it's like a love affair. You can just fall into it and keep going, and you never know where it's going to take you.
The easiest thing to do is put someone in a file of somebody you already know. 'Hey, you remind me of Sam Kinison' or 'You remind me of Richard Pryor.' That's fine, because I know that's the process. Eventually, my own file will be created.
Now I'm hot and bothered, and wondering why my new neighbor isn't putting the moves on me." "Maybe he doesn't want to push you too far, too fast and scare you off." Gideon's eyes glittered in the light of the television. "Is that so?" He nuzzled his nose against my temple. "If he has half a brain, he'd know not to let you get away." Oh... "Maybe I should make the first move," I whispered, wrapping my fingers around his wrist. "But what if he thinks I'm too easy?" "He'll be too busy thinking he's damned luck.
So why do I write, torturing myself to put it down? Because in spite of myself I've learned some things. Without the possibility of action, all knowledge comes to one labeled "file and forget," and I can neither file nor forget. Nor will certain ideas forget me; they keep filing away at my lethargy, my complacency. Why should I be the one to dream this nightmare?
The Montgomery Bus Boycott began in December 1955, and by 1956 NAACP leaders came to me and asked me to be part of a lawsuit they wanted to file on my behalf and that of three other women, to challenge segregation on public buses.
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