A Quote by J. Michael Straczynski

I've changed my mind. I've decided that at the end I want to be cremated and my ashes scattered over someone I don't like. — © J. Michael Straczynski
I've changed my mind. I've decided that at the end I want to be cremated and my ashes scattered over someone I don't like.
As a fire blazes brightly when the covering of ash over it is scattered by the wind, the divine fire within the body shines in all its majesty when the ashes of desire are scattered by the practice of pranayama.
I want to be cremated, and I want my ashes blown in Uri Geller's eyes.
Hawaii is the best form of comfort for me. When I die, I want to be cremated, and I want half my ashes spread in the Pacific around the island, the rest on the property.
When I die, nieces, I want to be cremated, my ashes taken up in a bush plane and sprinkled onto the people in town below. Let them think my body is snowflakes, sticking in their hair and on their shoulders like dandruff.
I went to the University of Maryland for a year and was considering maybe, you know, being a medical doctor but decided my other interest was maybe flying airplanes in the Navy and just kind of changed my mind and changed schools and changed majors and decided to focus a hundred percent on that.
I want a church service with New Orleans funeral jazz music. I'd like people to say a few words about me and I may have my ashes scattered in the sea.
I wish to be cremated. One tenth of my ashes shall be given to my agent, as written in our contract.
We were having tea with my mother-in-law the other day and out of the blue she said, "I've decided I want to be cremated." I said, "Alright, get your coat."
I don't want it to end, and so, as every therapist knows, the ego does not want an end to its “problems” because they are part of its identity. If no one will listen to my sad story, I can tell it to myself in my head, over and over, and feel sorry for myself, and so have an identity as someone who is being treated unfairly by life or other people, fate or God. It gives definition to my self-image, makes me into someone, and that is all that matters to the ego.
My husband wanted to be cremated. I told him I'd scatter his ashes at Neiman Marcus - that way, I'd visit him every day.
I'm going to be cremated from the neck down. And at my funeral, when people are talking about me, they have to hold my head. And then at the end, they have to kick me into the audience and the audience has to keep me up for at least three hits or you have to start the whole service over. No cradling it - I want legit sets.
How to re-light the fire the very ashes of which are scattered?
Do you know anyone who hasn't changed his mind? This door was a tree, then it will be firewood for someone, then it will return to air and earth. We're all like that, constantly changing. It's simply honest to report that you've changed your mind when you have. When you're afraid of what people will think if you speak honestly, that's where you become confused.
Lastly, the ashes left behind, May daily show to move the mind, That to ashes and dust return we must: Then think, and drink tobacco.
Hotel tea is when you have to mix together a plastic envelope containing too much sugar, a small plastic pot of something which is not milk but has curdled anyway, and a thin brown packet seemingly containing the ashes of a cremated mole.
Maybe this is just me, because my priorities have changed as I’ve gotten older. But now I don’t want to be ‘sort of dating’ someone. I don’t want to be ‘kinda hanging out’ with someone. I don’t want to spend a lot of energy suppressing all my feelings so I appear uninvolved. I want to be involved.
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