A Quote by Eric Reid

I can't imagine how traumatic it must be to have a gun pointed to your head for no reason at all. — © Eric Reid
I can't imagine how traumatic it must be to have a gun pointed to your head for no reason at all.
This was in San Francisco, in 1987. A bunch of kids were camped out in the Riviera Hotel - boy hustlers and their sugar daddy. One boy, Tank, showed us his gun. 'It's not loaded,' he said. He pointed the gun to his head, then out the window, and then to the ceiling. When the gun was pointed to the ceiling, he pulled the trigger and it went off. The gun was loaded after all.
I grew up with a glue gun pointed at my head.
Western civilization is a loaded gun pointed at the head of this planet.
If I didn't do something perfectly, I had to do it again... I grew up with a glue gun pointed at my head.
I never threatened him and no Syrian intelligence officer has ever pointed a gun to his head.
If I didnt do something perfectly, I had to do it again. I grew up with a glue gun pointed at my head.
It's important to cultivate detachment. One way to do this is to practice imagining yourself dead, or in the process of dying. If there's a window, you must imagine your body falling out the window. If there's a knife, you must imagine the knife piercing your skin. If there's a train coming, you must imagine your torso flattened under its wheels. These exercises are necessary to achieving the proper distance.
Looking at life through the eyes of a Daddy long legs: Imagine walking on legs so long you could cover a mile in fifty strides! Imagine looking to either side through eyes set not in your head but in a... hump in your back! Imagine your knees, when you walked, working a dozen feet or more above your head.
Admiration must be continued by that novelty which first produces it; and how much soever is given, there must always be reason to imagine that more remains.
When the highwayman holds his gun to your head, you turn your valuables over to him. You 'consent' alright, but you do so because you cannot help yourself, because you are compelled by his gun. Are you not compelled to work for an employer? Your need compels you, just as the highwayman's gun.
For years, I've gone on television and made the case for the Second Amendment - the right to bear arms. I've pointed out that criminals don't follow gun laws, and I've defended the NRA and its members - law-abiding gun owners like me who have nothing to do with mass shootings or violent gun crimes.
I look back and think of all the times I've had to let things go in the past, and how traumatic it seemed while it was happening, but how my understanding of it changed as time passed - and oftentimes things that seem really difficult and traumatic in the short term seem a lot less difficult and traumatic in the long term. So I remind myself of that.
Pull my trigger, I get bigger, then I'm lots of fun. I'm your gun, I'm your gun, gun, gun.
If you get to the point in your career where you're running with a gun - I've yet to run with a gun. I've stood still with a gun, and I've walked with a gun, but I've never run with a gun. Running with a gun, to me, that's when you know you've really made it.
I personally don't like guns at all, so pointing a gun at someone or having a gun pointed at me makes me feel very unbecoming. I think they're a scourge.
Ran out of bullets and still had static, grabbed a pregnant lady and out the automatic. Pointed at her head and said the gun was full of lead, he told the cops, back off or honey here's dead.
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