A Quote by Isaac Marion

...and we'll see what happens when we say Yes while this rigor mortis world screams No. — © Isaac Marion
...and we'll see what happens when we say Yes while this rigor mortis world screams No.
I know I'm not going to say good-bye. And if these staggering refugees want to help, if they think they see something bigger here than a boy chasing a girl, then they can help, and we'll see what happens when we say yes while the rigor mortis world screams no.
Goku: But I'm so hungry, I have rigor mortis!
Learning and sex until rigor mortis.
Museum collections have given photography rigor, and mortis.
Mathematics has given economics rigor, but alas, also mortis.
I would rather have strong enemies than a world of passive individualists. In a world of passive individualists nothing seems worth anything simply because nobody stands for anything. That world has no convictions, no victories, no unions, no heroism, no absolutes, no heartbeat. That world has rigor mortis.
Those who shun the whimsy of things will experience rigor mortis before death.
The use of mathematics has brought rigor to economics. Unfortunately, it has also brought mortis.
Mathematics brought rigor to Economics. Unfortunately, it also brought mortis.
When salaries skyrocket, budgets skyrocket, and then rigor mortis sets in: moviemakers turn out formulaic junk in an effort to hedge their bets.
Man screams from the depths of his soul; the whole era becomes a single, piercing shriek. Art also screams, into the deep darkness, screams for help, screams for the spirit. This is Expressionism.
A lot of bands have intense names, like "Rigor Mortis" or "Mortuary". We weren't that intense, we called ourselves "Injured". Later on we changed it to "Acapella" when we were walking out of the pawn shop.
Real serious waiting is done in waiting rooms, and what they all have in common is their purpose, or purposelessness, if you will; they are places for doing nothing and they have no life of their own. ... their one constant is what might be called a decorative rigor mortis.
In those days it was possible for a Greek to flee from an over-abundant reality as though it were but the tricky scheming off the imagination-and to flee, not like Plato into the land of eternal ideas, into the workshop off the world-creator, feasting one's eyes on the unblemished unbreakable archetypes, but into the rigor mortis off the coldest emptiest concept off all, the concept of being.
Lucern felt himself "She called my erections wonderful?" Entienne just gaped, then raised a fist to knock on his brother's forehead as if it were a door "Hello! Earth calling Luc! She thinks it's rigor mortis.
Everyone just screams and screams and screams. I have accepted it as real now, but it still feels surreal.
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