A Quote by Edward Snowden

The New York Times and The Guardian came out and said, "Hey, clemency for Snowden." But for me, the key - and I've said this from the beginning: it's not about me. I don't care if I get clemency. I don't care what happens to me.
My wife asked me about that: "What happened to your beard?" I said, "What are you talking about?" She said, "Hey, the right side is shorter than the left." I said, "You gotta be kidding me." So I went in there and looked, and I combed it out and I said, "I don't know, that's just the way it grows."
I don't care what the New York Times says about me, and no one I care about cares what the New York Times says about me.
I never said, 'no, I'm not going to do that.' Two things stand out that I really didn't care for, there was the one where they dressed me as a cow. Obviously, I didn't care for it, but I knew it was for 'hahas' for fun stuff. And then, when they put me in a diaper as the New Year's baby, I was like, 'ugh, here we go.'
Do you like him? Ty asked. "Not that I care." "I do," I said, because it was true. Even though it didn't matter anymore. "Not that I care you don't care. Though you clearly do care, and I don't care about that either." "Well, I don't care that you don't care that I don't care. In fact i'm glad. Because, um, if I were seeming someone that I liked, I'd want you to be happy for me.""Are you seeing someone?" I asked, pretty sure he wasn't. "Not that I care.
The Washington Post is and has been the greatest historic competitor of the New York Times. Half of me, though, the unselfish part of me that is just a journalist, is thrilled. I want newspapers to succeed. Let's take the Guardian, which is a new competitor in the digital age. Does it make me nervous that they compete with us and in fact beat us on the Snowden story? Yes. The part of me that's a competitive journalist and wants to fight and play says: bring them on! It's more fun that way.
One time, I threw a candy wrapper on the street. I was with a friend who said to me, You just littered on the street! Don't you care about the environment? And I thought about it, and I said, You know what? This isn't the environment. This is New York City. New York City is not the environment. New York City is a giant piece of litter. Next to Mexico City, it's the shittiest piece of litter in the world. Just a pussy, runny, smokin', stinkin' piece of litter.
I don't care about risk to me," he hissed, leaning forward across the table. "I care about what happens to you! Dammit, I'm practically indestructible. Let me go. You stay behind." "Yes," Clary said, "Jace won't find that odd at all. You can just tell him you've always been secretly in love with him and you can't stand being parted.
I don't really care too much about what people who don't care about me say about me, but a lot of times, you know, I get tired of defending myself.
There was one awkward moment where a black man stood-up to ask a question and out of habit, Bush said 'Clemency denied.'
Hey, big spender,” I said. He looked appreciative but more amused than anything else. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a one dollar bill. “Hugh,” I said. “Don’t insult me.” With a sigh, he produced a five and tucked it underneath my bra strap. “Hey, Seth,” Cody suddenly said. I looked up and saw Seth standing in the doorway. A look of comic bemusement was on his face. “Hey,” he said, studying me. “So…you’re paying for dinner?
I don't care," Clary said. "He'd do it for me. Tell me he wouldn't. If I were missing-" "He'd burn the whole world down till he could dig you out of the ashes. I know," Alec said.
On landing at New York I caught the yellow fever. The kind man who commanded the ship that brought me from France took charge of me and placed me under the care of two Quaker ladies. To their skillful and untiring care I may safely say I owe my life.
When we recorded the song I Just Can't Stop Loving You, my vocal range is a little higher than Michael's range. He had me re-sing the demo in the new key. Then doing that he filmed me singing this demo in the new key. I actually said, "What are you doing? Why are you filming this?" He said to me, "Because I want to sing it like you. You sound so great and I want to sing it just like you." I said, "Oh, great, Mike, my friends are really going to believe me when I tell them that Michael Jackson wanted to sing this song just like me." We laughed about that.
When I moved to New York, I had nothing. And a friend of mine also had nothing. And he said, 'Hey, come with me to the Marriot Marquis. And if you go to the 30th floor, and you wait by this door, and you sneak in, you can get free food.' And I did that for three years. I was prepared if anyone said, 'Can we see your room key?' to be like, 'Do you know who I am? I'm Bob Marriot's nephew.' Um, so great, I'm glad to be here and have free food again. And I didn't have to sneak in!
I was at a bar, and this guy bumped into me, and he did not apologize, and he said, "Move!" I thought that was rude, so I said, "Go to hell!" Then I started to run. He caught up to me. He had a mustache, a goatee, a pair of earrings, sunglasses, a ponytail and he was wearing a hat. He said, "Hey, you got a lot of nerve!" I said, "Hey, you got a lot of... cranium accessories!"
If you misquote me, I'll come out and be like, they misquoted me. This is what I said. This is exactly how I meant it. Whether you believe me or not, don't really care.
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