A Quote by Rachel Vincent

Why do you hang out with him?" "We're teammates." Ahhh. And if blood was thicker than water, then football, evidently, would congeal in one's veins. — © Rachel Vincent
Why do you hang out with him?" "We're teammates." Ahhh. And if blood was thicker than water, then football, evidently, would congeal in one's veins.
Blood may be thicker than water, but friendship is thicker than both.
Blood is thicker than water, but politics are thicker than blood.
They say blood is thicker than water. Only in certain cases, you need water to live. You learn that in the basics.
Atticus is my little, crazy boy. I do not get to see him much because he lives in Cincinnati. But when I have any chance, I spend time with him. It must be true that blood is thicker than water because he even sleeps with a ball.
There's an awful lot of blood around that water is thicker than.
Blood is thicker than water, my mother had always said when I was growing up, a sentiment I’d often disputed. But it turned out that it didn’t matter whether she was right or wrong. They both flowed out of my cupped palms.
Blood is thicker than water, but family isn’t just about blood. Family is about faith, and loyalty, and who you love. If you don’t have those things, I don’t care what the blood says. You’re not family.
Nevertheless, blood is thicker than water, as anyone knows who has tasted both.
Blood may be thicker than water, but it is still sticky, unpleasant and generally nauseating.
What is happening to me happens to all fruits that grow ripe. It is the honey in my veins that makes my blood thicker, and my soul quieter.
In basketball and football I would cry. I didn't understood why all my teammates weren't good. Then I started boxing and I knew it was different. I said, this is all me.
It is said that blood is thicker than water. It is what joins us, binds us, curses us.
If yet your blood does not rage, then it is water that flows in your veins. For what is the flush of youth, if it is not of service to the motherland.
Blood transforms the warm bath water and, in it, I see weakly that this was a mistake. The razor's cut is not deep, nevertheless the blood rushes out happily in the warm water as if kin to it, the same tender substance. Rising a new person transformed with an icy sense of error I go to the sink and turn on cold water which is not friendly to blood. The cut is deeper than imagined.
Water is the blood in our veins.
I'm 26 years old, I'm not some 43-year-old who's just gonna watch TV all day. Of course I want to go out there, hang out with teammates, hang out with people I love, go to the beach, go hang out!
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