A Quote by Diablo Cody

I try to avoid Twitter. I occasionally can't resist the siren call of email. — © Diablo Cody
I try to avoid Twitter. I occasionally can't resist the siren call of email.
I avoid Facebook, LinkedIn and Twitter, and if I need to communicate with someone, I email direct.
I am not on Facebook and on Twitter because the purpose of my life is to avoid messages. I receive too many messages from the world, and so I try to avoid that.
When I go a stretch without tweeting, I will occasionally get an email from my mom, checking in. I always find this amusing but also gratifying: Thanks to Twitter, I can keep in touch with my parents and let them in on what I'm doing in a way that even the regular phone calls of a doting daughter can't do.
I began using the #smallacts hashtag on Twitter shortly after the 2016 election as a way to resist. To resist the intolerance growing in our nation, to resist an upcoming administration that I believe threatens to pull us backward and strip rights from those already marginalized.
Today, we live in a time of threats like few others in recent memory. During anxious times, it can be tempting to follow the siren call of the angriest voices. We must resist that temptation. No one who is willing to work hard, abide by our laws, and love our traditions should ever feel unwelcome in this country.
The first few days without a cellphone were difficult. I felt liberated from the static of Facebook and Twitter but feared that I had missed some email or call that someone had died.
Never check email first thing in the morning. Instead, complete your most important task before 11:00 A.M. to avoid using lunch or reading email as a postponement excuse.
I put out a call on Twitter and Facebook and email for women to tell me their stories about their abortions. And many women said, 'I told my boyfriend I was pregnant, and that was the last I ever heard of them.'
You must avoid sloth, that wicked siren.
When I'm on Twitter, we just talk to people. I call all my Twitter followers my 'Twitter babies.'
You are my siren,” he said, running his hands along her thighs and down her calves, feeling the shape of her even as the silk of her gown kept them both from what they wanted. “My temptress . . . my sorceress . . . I cannot resist you, no matter how I try. You threaten to send me over the edge.
Sadness is just a place on the map. Don't try to avoid it, resist it or escape through substances. Settle it, allow it, and it will go.
I get up, get coffee, and go into my home office. I check email and Twitter before I start work, but I have to try not to get too distracted.
Conservatives must avoid the siren song of schism, or all is lost.
There's always that siren song call from America for actors, I think, in Canada. You always want to know, you never want to not go and not try.
I do love email. Wherever possible I try to communicate asynchronously. I'm really good at email.
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