A Quote by Emraan Hashmi
I used to believe that the number eight is unlucky for me and would even avoid anything that would add up to 8 - like 17, 26 and so on. I would religiously visit astrologers and wear different stones to bring in good luck.
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I prefer unlucky things. Luck is vulgar. Who wants what luck would bring? I don't.
When I was 17 me and my friend had mopeds. We used to play a game where we would close our eyes and drive while counting to the highest number we could. Once I got to eight, and that was pretty much the most stupid thing I've ever done in my life. I ended up on the other side of the road.
When I was younger, I jumped out of a moving car. I would do anything. Now, being a father and knowing the political state of the world, there are certain things which potentially could be religiously volatile that I would probably avoid, but not much.
My mum used to wear the guys' Chesty Bonds tanks, and I used to end up wearing them after she'd finish with them. She's a painter, and they would be covered in paint splatters. She would wear them and wear them until they were super-soft, and then I'd get them. But I was just a kid, so they were like a dress on me.
If it was up to me, I would just wear jeans and t-shirts, even to red carpets, but then no one would photograph me, so that would make me very sad. So you know, I've gotta keep up with the rest of the female population and sometimes try a little harder.
It wouldn't bring her back. I know. Trust me, I do. And I would have done far worse, he says, if I'd thought there was a way to bring Regina back. I would have traded places. I would have sold souls. I would have torn this world apart. I would have done anything, broken any rule, just to bring her back.
I knew, even at eight, that the confusion of values thrust upon me by parents, teachers, other children, nannies, camp counselors, and others would only worsen as I grew up. The years would add complications and steer me into more and more impenetrable tangles of rights and wrongs, desirables and undesirables. I had already seen enough to know that.
Designers do a lot of clothes I would like to wear but I can't. If it had to be made up in my size It would look ridiculous. You can't always wear what's in style. You have to realize what looks good on you.
I think about my friends all the time when I'm designing. That's always an arbiter. Would Katy wear this? Would Rihanna wear this? Would Sia wear it? Would Miley wear it?
So what that he had children with other women? He was always truthful, he always told me when another child was on the way. He would even bring the babies to me when they were born, and sometimes I would even bring them up myself.
Would that I were a dry well, and that the people tossed stones into me, for that would be easier than to be a spring of flowing water that the thirsty pass by, and from which they avoid drinking.
I would wear pink because I knew my future was anything but rosy. I would accessorize myself to the hilt, and I would wear flirty shoes because my world needed more beauty to counter all the ugliness in it. I would wear pink because I hated gray, I didn’t deserve white, and I was sick of black.
My family was, I think, a bit more radical than most Mormons, especially on the question of gender. So in my mind, growing up, there wasn't ever any question of what my future would look like. I would get married when I was 17 or 18. And I would be given some corner of the farm, and my husband would put a house on it, and we would have kids.
I would rediscover the secret of great communications and great combustions. I would say storm. I would say river. I would say tornado. I would say leaf. I would say tree. I would be drenched by all rains, moistened by all dews. I would roll like frenetic blood on the slow current of the eye of words turned into mad horses into fresh children into clots into curfew into vestiges of temples into precious stones remote enough to discourage miners. Whoever would not understand me would not understand any better the roaring of a tiger.
If Hunter hadn't been there, I would've picked up the phone to call Eric. I would've asked him to bring a shovel and come to help me dig a body up. That was what a boyfriend should do, right? But I couldn't leave Hunter alone in the house, and I would've felt terrible if I'd ask Eric to go out in the woods by himself, even though I knew he wouldn't think anything about it. In fact, probably he'd have sent Pam.
Those who were unlucky in life in spite of their skills would eventually rise. The lucky fool might have benefited from some luck in life; over the longer run he would slowly converge to the state of a less-lucky idiot. Each one would revert to his long-term properties.
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