A Quote by Michael Vick

I would like to own a dog in the future. I think it would be a big step for me in the rehabilitation process. — © Michael Vick
I would like to own a dog in the future. I think it would be a big step for me in the rehabilitation process.
Dogs want to be people. That's what their lives are about. They don't like being a dog. They're with people all the time, they want to graduate. My dog would sit there all day, he would watch me walk by, he would think to himself, "I could do that! He's not that good.
Because of the dog's joyfulness, our own is increased. It is no small gift. It is not the least reason why we should honor as well as love the dog of our own life, and the dog down the street, and all the dogs not yet born. What would the world be like without music or rivers or the green and tender grass? What would this world be like without dogs?
I would love to own a dog, but somehow a dog is just not me. I've always had the distinct impression that they are less like a pet and more like another child.
I should get a dog. I would get a rescue dog. I like mutts; I don't care. I would probably get a three-legged dog no one else would want.
As far as I'm concerned, I own my dogs as I own my body. My legs are with me when I take a shower, and I feel no shame. If I were to lose one, I'd grieve, and people would send sympathy cards, but it would be my condition that evoked the sympathy, not the fate of the leg. That's like losing a dog.
It would have been so perfectly ironic if I had been killed by the dog, because I was petting a dog who was not used to being pet, because I think I'm some kind of dog whisperer, and I think I can make any dog love me.
"Try another Subtraction sum. Take a bone from a dog: what remains?" [asked the Red Queen] Alice considered. "The bone wouldn't remain, of course, if I took it-and the dog wouldn't remain; it would come to bite me-and I'm sure I shouldn't remain!" "Then you think nothing would remain?" said the Red Queen. "I think that's the answer." "Wrong, as usual," said the Red Queen, "the dog's temper would remain."
The excuse of having a dog is great, because before I had a dog, I wouldn't be like, 'I need to go hike for two hours'; my girlfriend would have been like, 'What are you doing?' Now I take the dog, and she comes with me.
I was getting in my own way. I would quit jobs and step out on hope and faith, and pray to God that I would book something that would allow me to just continue to act.
My father was very methodical about life. He'd always ask me, 'Now, what's your system? What's your schedule like?' I have no big system, no rigid schedule. When he would ask, 'How do you do this? Give it to me step by step,' I'd try to convince him that there were no step-by-steps.
Oh God, you know what would be really good for me is a dog locater - it would save me the hours that I have to spend looking for my dog.
I don't think there's anything wrong with pity. Like if you saw a dog having just been hit by a car, you would pity that dog. But then what do you do? Do you leave it there to get run over by more cars, or do you step into traffic and hold up your hand? "Stop! An animal has been hit!" and carry the thing to safety?
My dream tour would be like, me, Cole, Drake, Sean, Meek. I think that would be dope, something like that; big venues.
I would go with my husband to the tailors where he gets his shirts made, and I would watch the bespoke process. I would ask them, "Would you be able to make that for me?" And they would always say, "Well, yes, but no." They were very French about it. I decided I would just do it for myself. And I started doing that. Then other people would notice, and want it. So I started doing things for friends, little pieces, and my own line grew that way.
I would push myself so much that in the end I would collapse and I would have to be admitted to hospital, I would pray to God to save me, promise that I would be more careful in future. And then I would do it all over again.
I always believe that, as you start out, while you should have a big dream - a big goal - but it's also important to move step by step. So, you know, frankly, if you ask me, when I started as a management trainee in 1984, I don't know that I really thought that I would become the CEO.
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