A Quote by Neal Shusterman
What, are you totally psycho?" I shouted. "Maybe I am!" he screamed back at me. "Maybe that's just what I am. Maybe I'm that quiet guy who suddenly goes nuts and then you find half the neighborhood in his freezer." I gotta admit, that one stumped me for a second - but only for a second. "Which half?" I asked. "Huh?" "Which half of the neighborhood? Could you make it the people on the other side of Avenue T, because I never really liked them anyway.
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He slouched back in his seat, looking tired, and leaned his face on his shoulder to look at me while he played with my hair. He started to hum a song, and then, after a few bars, he sang it. Quietly, sort of half-sung, half-spoken, incredibly gentle. I didn’t catch all the words, but it was about his summer girl. Me. Maybe his forever girl. His yellow eyes were half-lidded as he sang, and in that golden moment, hanging taut in the middle of an icecovered landscape like a single bubble of summer nectar, I could see how my life could be stretched out in front of me.
Because I have been a magician for many years, people have often asked me whether I ever have sawn a woman in half. I reply, Oh, yes I've sawn over seventy women in half in my lifetime, and I'm learning the second half of the trick now.
Maybe because English is my second language, maybe I just translate mundane clichés from the Welsh language and they sound original in English. I am going through a bit of an obsession with bad puns. I am hoping I'll grow out of it. Maybe it's just a phase.
I was a VJ to begin with, so I had a good year of interviewing artists, but then I would spend half my time being interviewed about half my projects, and the other time, other people. It was good because it made me a better interviewer because I knew what people didn't like being asked, and what they enjoy being asked, so I am super used to it.
I believe the second half of one's life is meant to be better than the first half. The first half is finding out how you do it. And the second half is enjoying it.
It's what the people wanted at the time, but the country could not be half-segregated and half-integrated, just as it could not be half-slave and half-free back in the 1800s.
I am surrounded by flatterers and fools. It can drive a man to madness,.. . Half of them don’t dare tell me the truth, and the other half can’t find it.
Maybe you’ll marry, maybe you won’t, maybe you’ll have children, maybe you won’t, maybe you’ll divorce at 40, maybe you’ll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary…what ever you do, don’t congratulate yourself too much or berate yourself either – your choices are half chance, so are everybody else’s.
Which other actor has appeared in one-half of a dance show as a girl and in the second-half as a man?
When I was young I was very close to my parents. I never liked staying at my mates' houses, I always wanted to be with my parents and then suddenly at 17 I was like, "Oh well, maybe I should just move half way around the world."
About 95% of the people listening to me agree with me. But I can continue to work with half or 30 or 20% of the audience hating me. In fact, one of the things I've had to do psychologically, in order to thrive, I've had to learn how to take being reviled and hated as a sign of success. Most people are not raised - I certainly wasn't - to want to be hated. I can only think maybe one or two people who were. Hitler. Maybe somebody else. Maybe Saddam.
On the second half of 'Under Pressure,' I talk about my family, and there are voicemails on my phone from when I was on the road that actually make up the second half of the nine-minute song. I transcribe them and rap them as if I were my sister, my brother, or my father.
I am never going to be very Hollywood because on one hand half of Hollywood hates me, and on the other hand half of them love me.
True love was forever lost. The prince was never coming back to kiss me awake from my enchanted sleep. I was not a princess, after all. So what was the fairy-tale protocol for other kisses? The mundane kind that didn't break any spells? Maybe it would be easy - like holding his hand or having his arms around me. Maybe it would feel nice. Maybe it wouldn't fell like a betrayal. Besides, who was I betraying, anyway? Just myself.
Leo and Soledad simultaneously gave out a sort of half laugh, half snort. It was loud, and it was relieved, and it broke the tension and caused Pierre to bark again, indignantly. All of which meant that neither of them heard it when Zach turned to Lucy in that same second and whispered: There's something else you need to know. I'm not just your friend. I am completely in love with you.
I have to admit, I am aware of my Latin roots now. In the past, people couldn't place me. They thought that I was Danish or English or French. They never got that I am Italian. I'm not typical, maybe because my visual education was very mixed. There was a lot of London in my aesthetic: The Face, i-D, British music, and a lot of British fashion . . . But I really enjoy this contrast. I can go from Lady Gaga to Brian Eno in a split second.
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