Sting! I mean, come on - whoe doesn't love Sting? Even if you love Megadeath, you have respect for Sting. If you love Pokemon, you'll find out who Sting is someday.
And also, one is a mother in order to understand the inexplicable. One is a mother to lighten the darkness. One is a mother to shield when lightning streaks the night, when thunder shakes the earth, when mud bogs one down. One is a mother in order to love without beginning or end.
I think Sting would be denying his fans a great moment if Sting did not step into WWE competition at least once. I have always been a huge admirer of what Sting brings to the table and his relationship with his audience, and I would be dramatically disappointed if Sting does not wrestle a WWE match.
At 93, so deep in dementia that she didn't remember any details of her life, my mother somehow still knew songs.
I've never really had a sense that I am just Mrs. Sting. Indeed, I am Mrs. Sting and very proud and very happy that I am still Mrs. Sting, as opposed to Mrs. ex-Sting. But I'm a very busy person, so I've always done things and got on with my life.
It appears to be a matter of national pride that the President is to have more mud, and blacker mud, and filthier mud in front ofhis door than any other man can afford.
What I worry about is, if you are on the side of feeling it's disrespectful to kneel during the anthem, that somehow you're racist, or somehow you're not in favor of bettering this country and finding equality and common ground.
May each of us remember this truth; 'one cannot forget mother and remember God. One cannot remember mother and forget God.' Why? Because these two sacred persons, God and mother, partners in creation, in love, in sacrifice, in service, are as one.
I wish I had a memory of that first violent shove, the shock of cold air, the sting of oxygen into new lungs. Everyone should remember being born. It doesn't seem fair that we only remember dying.
When a bee stings, she dies. She cannot sting and live. When men sting, their better selves die. Every sting kills a better instinct. Men must not turn bees and kill themselves in stinging others.
That came from my mother. She was the biggest influence on my life. I remember once refusing to get on a bus with her because she was wearing a mink, and I thought we should be taking a taxi. She just said, 'Who cares what people think?' and I remember sitting on that bus, being utterly embarrassed, but knowing somehow that she was totally correct.
There is the mud, and there is the lotus that grows out of the mud. We need the mud in order to make the lotus.
I remember my mother and father arguing about light bulbs because my father thought he could save money by putting 25-watt bulbs instead of 60-watt bulbs and my mother was trying to explain to him that her children needed to learn to read so that they could go to college. He couldn't see that.
Love is born in sexuality but sexuality is not love. The lotus is born in the mud, but the lotus is not just mud. And if mud remains mud of course there are bound to be tears on the cheeks.
Jim said that bees won't sting idiots, but I didn't believe that, because I tried them lots of times myself and they wouldn't sting me.
One may not doubt that, somehow Good Shall come of Water and of Mud; And sure, the reverent eye must see A purpose in Liquidity.