A Quote by Jack O'Neill

To be honest, I wouldn't mind one last jaunt through the old orifice. — © Jack O'Neill
To be honest, I wouldn't mind one last jaunt through the old orifice.

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Through the orifice of silence, the whole geyser of Bliss, perpetually shoots up and flows over the soul.
That old berk," muttered Aberforth, taking another swig of mead. "Thought the sun shone out of my brother's every orifice, he did.
Different elevator music was playing since my last visit-that old disco song "Stayin' Alive." A terrifying image flashed through my mind of Apollo in bell-bottom pants and a slinky silk shirt.
Mexico admits you through an arched stone orifice into the tree-filled courtyard of its heart, where a dog pisses against a wall and a waiter hustles through a curtain of jasmine to bring a bowl of tortilla soup, steaming with cilantro and lime. Cats stalk lizards among the clay pots around the fountain, doves settle into the flowering vines and coo their prayers, thankful for the existence of lizards. The potted plants silently exhale, outgrowing their clay pots. Like Mexico's children they stand pinched and patient in last year's too-small shoes.
After the last shovel of dirt was patted in place, I sat down and let my mind drift back through the years. I thought of the old K. C. Baking Powder can, and the first time I saw my pups in the box at the depot. I thought of the fifty dollars, the nickels and dimes, and the fishermen and blackberry patches. I looked at his grave and, with tears in my eyes, I voiced these words: "You were worth it, old friend, and a thousand times over.
Before I write down one word, I have to have the character in my mind through and through. I must penetrate into the last wrinkle of his soul.
People living through armed conflicts need infrastructure and services which will last, and the last thing on their mind is which budget line applies.
I learned that if a relationship is honest, it can last through anything despite all the challenges we have to face and everything that happens around us.
One of my earliest jobs drawing was 'Wonder Woman: Our Worlds At War,' with Phil Jimenez, which was a really cool jaunt through her history. I got to draw this two-page spread that was set in the Golden Age.
This is something you learn as soon as you walk through the doors at Old Trafford: that you're never better than your last performance. You always have to improve on your last performance.
We like people who are honest. Honest in argument, honest with clients, honest with suppliers, honest with the company - and above all, honest with consumers.
The need of the human mind for contrast has its roots in the mind's age-old habit of looking for differences and likenesses. When the mind can find no differences and no likenesses, as is the case when monotony is present, it restlessly, then resentfully, and at last frantically seeks for contrast that it may again busy itself with observing differences and likenesses.
Doubts raced through my mind as I considered the feasibility of enforcing a law which the majority of honest citizens didn't seem to want.
To be honest helps you a lot to not waste time. It's also the way I help the players most. It doesn't matter if it is the captain or the last reserve player, I try to be honest.
You have had your last bad meal. But, you have also heard your last honest compliment, and you have lost your last true friend.
I suppose as long as novels last, and authors aim at interesting their public, there must always be in the story a virtuous and gallant hero; a wicked monster, his opposite; and a pretty girl, who finds a champion. Bravery and virtue conquer beauty; and vice, after seeming to triumph through a certain number of pages, is sure to be discomfited in the last volume, when justice overtakes him, and honest folks come by their own.
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