A Quote by John Elder Robison
Unlike some older brothers, I never set him on fire, or cut off an arm or leg, or drowned him in the tub.
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At such times, the heart of man turns instictively towards his Maker. In prosperity, and whenever there is nothing to injure or make him afraid, he remembers Him not, and is ready to defy Him; but place him in the midst of dangers, cut him off from human aid, let the grave open before him, then it is, in the time of his tribulation, that the scoffer and unbelieving man turns to God for help, feeling there is no other hope, or refuge, or safety, save in his protecting arm.
Once committed to fight, cut. Everything else is secondary. Cut. That is your duty, your purpose, your hunger. There is no rule more important, no commitment that overrides that one. Cut. Cut from the void, not from bewilderment. Cut the enemy as quickly and directly as possible. Cut decisively, resolutely. Cut into the enemy’s strength. Flow through the gaps in his guard. Cut him. Cut him down utterly. Don’t allow him a breath. Crush him. Cut him without mercy to the depths of his spirit." -Richard Rahl
I could cut my leg off. I could cut my arm off. I could gouge an eye out. I'd still probably survive. But not very well. And that's what we're doing to the oceans. It's the life-support system of this planet. We've been dumping in it. We've been polluting it. We've been destroying it for decades. And we're essentially maiming ourselves.
My brother once lit his leg on fire. And after, when the fire was finally out, his leg was covered in third-degree burns. And we made the decision - or my parents did - not to take him to the hospital but to treat that at home with a salve my mother made of comfrey and lobelia.
I blame and credit my brothers for my competitive fire within me. Growing up, I lost at everything! My brothers are quite a bit older - 10 years and 5 years - so it was a challenge, but I have some of the most amazing memories with my big brothers.
To set a forest on fire, you light a match. To set a character on fire, you put him in conflict.
I could cut my leg of; I could cut my arm off. I could gouge my eye out - I'd still probably survive, but not very well, and that's what we're doing to the ocean. It's the life support system of this planet. We've been dumping in it, we've been polluting it, we've been destroying it for decades, and we're essentially maiming ourselves.
You know," she said, stirring her tea, "the fastest way to get him off your back is to sleep with him. And tell him you love him. Preferably while in bed." I smirked and the tea almost came out of my nose. "He'd run like he was on fire.
Josh Bard is a catcher with excellent defensive tools and someone ... whose best days are ahead of him. He's not coming off his best [offensive] season, but we still think there is some ceiling on him. He has outstanding makeup and calls a good game. [He's] a solid receiver with a plus arm, and he's going to be coming to camp with a chance to open some eyes.
Yes, in baseball when the team stinks, you fire the manager. But you don't fire him because it rains. And you don't let the opposing team choose a new manager for you. And you don't fire him between innings. And replace him with a Viennese weightlifter.
One of my brothers in my adopted family converted to Islam and I love him with all my heart. I have Muslim women who understand my pain and they give me lots of love and support. But what Black Americans never think about is that the African version of Islam is totally different from American Islam. They've never seen mothers doused in gasoline and set on fire for ’religious' reasons. So they don't know what I'm talking about.
Let him cut your skin, and you cut his flesh. Let him cut your flesh, and you cut his bones. Let him cut your bones, and you cut off his life
I've told him to cut off his ponytail. I think it makes him less aerodynamic.
Look at my papa here; he's been dead all these years, and yet he is more real to me than almost anybody else. He never goes out of my life. I talk to him and consult him all the time. The older I grow, the better I know him and the more I understand him.
I know what you said! My mother would never have belonged to something like that. Some kind of-some kind of hate group." "It wasn't-," Jace began, but Hodge cut him off. "I doubt," he said slowly, as if the words pained him, "that she had much choice." Clary stared. "What are you talking about? Why wouldn't she have had a choice?" "Because," said Hodge, "she was Valentine's wife.
The tears I gratified him with were fake ones. Ones that set off my green eyes the way diamonds set off emeralds. And it worked. If you dazzled a man with green eyes, he will be so hypnotized that he won’t notice there is someone inside the eyes spying on him. – Vida Winters Page 268
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