A Quote by Merlin Mann
My narrative is that I've never known what's coming next-I still don't. I fell down the right set of stairs and have been surrounded by people who have picked me up and said, “Let's try this again.” It's been one anxious block of uncertainty after another.
Related Quotes
We don’t have to do this. I can fight Coyote. We have the ability to defeat him.” – Sundown “Are you out of your effing mind? Hello? Where have you been for the last two days? I want whatever screwed-up glasses you’re looking through. ’Cause from where I’ve been standing, we’ve been getting our asses seriously kicked around the block. Up a few stairs and down again.” – Sasha
Mr Lorry asks the witness questions: Ever been kicked? Might have been. Frequently? No. Ever kicked down stairs? Decidedly not; once received a kick at the top of a staircase, and fell down stairs of his own accord.
I don't know what I was trying to get out of a tenor - but it never really satisfied me until one day I picked up my alto and I said, 'Where have you been?' and I said right here for now on!
I think there have always been male writers, female writers. As a reader, I never picked up a book and said, 'Oh, I can't read this - it's about a male,' and set it back down.
I have known her longer, my smile said. True, you have been inside the circle of her arms, tasted her mouth, felt the warmth of her, and that is something I have never had. But there is a part of her that is only for me. You cannot touch it, no matter how hard you might try. And after she has left you I will still be here, making her laugh. My light shining in her. I will still be here long after she has forgotten your name.
I got up this morning. I like to get up in the morning; it gives me the rest of the day to myself. I crossed the landing and went down stairs. Mind you, if there had been no stairs, I wouldn't even have attempted it.
When I was 20-something, 30, I fell down a flight of stairs and hurt my back. I went to a therapist who said don't get out of bed until you do certain stretches, and I've been doing them ever since. I guess I'm the original yogi.
When I was 5, someone thought it was smart to let me watch The People Under the Stairs. It might not have even been that scary, but I do remember skinned people in cages under the stairs and a man who lived in a wall without a tongue… and that’s why I cry after sex.
First of all, I was a good Christian kid. My mom and dad taught me never to fight. So I never fought. The other kids picked that up right away. They said, 'Oh, he's not going to try to do anything.' They'd push me, shove me, hit me. I'd just stand there and take it.
She had always been a reader… but now she was obsessed. Since her discovery of the book hoard downstairs from her job, she’d been caught up in one such collection of people and their doings after the next…The pleasure of this sort of life – bookish, she supposed it might be called, a reading life – had made her isolation into a rich and even subversive thing. She inhabited one consoling or horrifying persona after another…That she was childless and husbandless and poor meant less once she picked up a book. Her mistakes disappeared into it. She lived with an invented force.
It bothered me that he was right. Without Sir Stuart's intervention, I'd have been dead again already. That's right--you heard me: dead again already. I mean, come on. How screwed up is your life (after- or otherwise) when you find yourself needing phrases like that?
I haven't really auditioned much in my career. I've been lucky in terms of the feature work; it's mostly been people that have been fans of mine that have called and said "We have this part, do you want to do it?" That kind of thing. And that's sort of still the way it is right now - I don't really go after features too much.
Ronnie is the greatest player to have ever picked up a snooker cue. People have said that about me. But although I won 50 or so tournaments I never picked up the world championship. That was a little bit of a disappointment.
Somebody talked me into writing an autobiography about six or seven years ago. And I said I'd try. We talked into a tape recorder, and after a couple of months, I said, To hell with it. I was so depressed. It was like saying, 'This is the end.' I was more interested in what the hell was coming the next day or the next week.
But it is the knowledge of how contingent my unease is, how dependent on a baby that wails beneath my window one day and does not wail the next, that brings the worst shame to me, the greatest indifference to annihilation. I know somewhat too much; and from this knowledge, once one has been infected, there seems to be no recovering. I ought never to have taken my lantern to see what was going on in the hut by the granary. On the other hand, there was no way, once I had picked up the lantern, for me to put it down again. The knot loops in upon itself; I cannot find the end.
(on Marilyn Monroe) I was walking down Broadway with her and nobody was stopping us. She was going to (Stella Adler's) actors' studio, and she was taking me to show me what it was all about. And I said to her: "How come nobody is taking your picture?" She said: "Well, watch." She took her scarf off, straightened her shoulders, and draped something another way, and we were surrounded. It must have been 400 people. And I said: "Now I know why!"
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