A Quote by Ellie Taylor

I went out with a guy from Wolverhampton once. He took me to watch a Wolves match. A man in the seat behind me burned a hole in my coat with a cigarette. — © Ellie Taylor
I went out with a guy from Wolverhampton once. He took me to watch a Wolves match. A man in the seat behind me burned a hole in my coat with a cigarette.
I sneaked into an Everton match once. I'm a Liverpool supporter, but Liverpool were away, Liverpool reserves weren't playing, there wasn't even a youth match, so I took my son into an Everton match. God help me. It wasn't me.
That guy behind me on the airplane? He's been kicking my seat because he hates me. He's kicking my seat because he hates me and I'm gonna kill him. When we get off this plane, I'm gonna make eye contact. I'm gonna kill that guy. And all of that is just stuff in my head, but it's good to get rid of that stuff.
I knew about teams from England, but I even asked where Wolverhampton played and they told me, 'Well, in Wolverhampton.' 'Oh, it's a city?'
Mr. Pickwick took a seat and the paper, but instead of reading the latter, peeped over the top of it, and took a survey of the man of business, who was an elderly, pimply-faced, vegetable-diet sort of man, in a black coat, dark mixture trousers, and small black gaiters; a kind of being who seemed to be an essential part of the desk at which he was writing, and to have as much thought or sentiment.
When I was 10 years old, a cousin of mine took me on a tour of his medical school. And as a special treat, he took me to the pathology lab and took a real human brain out of the jar and placed it in my hands. And there it was, the seat of human consciousness, the powerhouse of the human body, sitting in my hands.
I'm going out with these old guys. One guy gave me a hickey and left his teeth in my neck. Another man, we were having a perfectly lovely dinner; he looked up and me and went: You're not my wife! Another guy died during dinner. I had to go in his pocket to get the American Express card. Then you wonder: What would he tip? Another guy said: I want you to meet my family, and took me to the cemetery.
Unfortunately, once I did learn to smoke, I couldn't stop. I escalated to two packs a day very quickly, and stayed that way for about ten years. When I decided to stop, I adopted the method that my father had used when he quit. He would carry a cigarette in his shirt pocket, and every time he felt like smoking, he would pull out the cigarette and confront it: "Who stronger? You? Me?" Always the answer was the same: "I stronger." Back the cigarette would go, until the next craving. It worked for him, and it worked for me.
To me, it feels like 'The Doctor' has to have a long coat, and that's something imprinted on me from childhood, because he always did. And there's something heroic in a flapping coat, but at the same time, I need to get rid of it sometimes and just be a scrawny guy in a suit that doesn't quite fit.
I'm the type of guy where I feel like if you throw me in against the guy that's gonna be my hardest match-up, I think that's gonna bring out the best in me, and I know that the best of me can beat anybody on any given day to become the world champion.
I took a puff of the wrong cigarette at a fraternity dance once, and the cops had to get me, y'know. I broke two teeth trying to give a hickie to the Statue of Liberty.
If I were in a situation where I had to meet a pack of wolves and my family is with me, I'm going to be scared, but I'm not going to hide behind my son to protect me. They're going to hide behind me.
Suddenly I realize that this is what I've been waiting for - a man who depends entirely on me... I dreamed for years of a man who couldn't live without me, a man who pictured my face when he closed his eyes, who loved me when I was a mess in the morning and when dinner was late and even when I overloaded the washing machine and burned out the motor. [My son] stares up at me as if I can do no wrong. I have always wanted someone who treats me the way he does; I just didn't know that I'd have to give birth to him.
I can't relate to the people who shoot wolves. I'm guessing the person who shot Wolf 06 wouldn't relate much to me either. You let people go out and shoot hundreds of wolves and watch violent movies, and then you're surprised when they go on a rampage shooting other humans. You can't separate violence like that.
Barack Obama strikes me as a man of strong principles and weak convictions - the kind of guy who would rather teach constitutional law than practice it, or who'd rather watch the match alone on TV than arm-wrestle his opponents.
He's always been tough on me, but I've had to figure out when he's being a coach and when he's being a dad. Once I figured that out, it was much easier. It's definitely tough, something that took years to figure out. Just knowing he was looking for what's best for me, not just yelling at me as a parent. It took maturity.
The only man who really needs a tail coat is a man with a hole in his trousers.
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