A Quote by Jon Richardson

My wife's biggest fear is air pollution, living in London as we do. She's convinced that's the big problem. And my own is sink holes and the inevitability of us all, at some point, collapsing into a sink hole and never being seen again.
My wife and I never agree on the dishtowels. It's a matter of terms. She asks me not to put the dishtowel in the sink. So I drape it over the sink, but not in the sink. If that's our biggest problem, I think we're in good shape.
And in a small house five miles away was a man who held my mud-encrusted charm bracelet out to his wife. Look what I found at the old industrial park," he said. "A construction guy said they were bulldozing the whole lot. They're afraid of sink holes like that one that swallowed the cars." His wife poured him some water from the sink as he fingered the tiny bike and the ballet shoe, the flower basket and the thimble. He held out the muddy bracelet as she set down his glass. This little girl's grown up by now," she said. Almost. Not quite. I wish you all a long and happy life.
I sit in the sink (while applying makeup). I do. I've broken more sinks...I sit in the sink, on top of a big square sink in my bathroom with my feet in the basin so I'm very close to the mirror with the good light, and I'm very comfortable. I also manage to put my two phones in the sink so that nothing, but nothing, could get me out of there.
Not to sink under being man and wife, But get some color and music out of life?
You know... life can be like a big game of Battleship. The enemy knows where your ships are and is trying to call the right number and sink them. But he can't sink you if you're with God.
There is something distinguished about even his failures; they sink not trivially, but with a certain air of majesty, like a great ship, its flags flying, full of holes.
These poets (fans of whatever) should be contacting other young poets on their way - not those who have made it, who sit on a star and then have plenty of problems: usually no money, usually the fear their own writing is going down the sink hole.
I think about what's going down my sink. So I won't pour oil down my sink. I won't - if I'm cleaning a pan, I'll wipe it and bin because I've seen - I've been down sewers.
Love is not all: it is not meat nor drink Nor slumber nor a roof against the rain; Nor yet a floating spar to men that sink And rise and sink and rise and sink again; Love can not fill the thickened lung with breath, Nor clean the blood, nor set the fractured bone; Yet many a man is making friends with death Even as I speak, for lack of love alone.
There are parts of a ship which taken by themselves would sink. The engine would sink. The propeller would sink. But when the parts of a ship are built together, they float. So with the events of my life. Some have been tragic. Some have been happy. But when they are built together, they form a craft that floats and is going places. And I am comforted.
The ideal kitchen-sink novel: Throw in everything but the kitchen sink. Then add the kitchen sink.
I've always believed that if you cannot do it, then you should not do it.Only when it comes to the point where you've literally dug yourself into a hole, where it's sink or swim, is that viable to me.
It had struck me that the world was full of holes, holes which you could fall into, never to be seen again. I couldn't understand the difference between disappearance and death. Both seemed the same to me, both left holes. Holes in your heart holes in your life.
Basically my wife was immature. I'd be at home in the bath and she'd come in and sink my boats.
Whether it is a big ship or small ship, the same size hole placed correctly in the hull can sink it.
For a split second I felt as though she was nobody special in the larger scheme of my life. She was just some girl who had tied me to her leg to help her sink when she jumped off the bridge. Then I blinked and was in love with her again.
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