A Quote by Rachel Vincent

So you’re saying the afterlife is hard on the libido? FYI, that’s probably not a good bullet point for your recruiting brochure. — © Rachel Vincent
So you’re saying the afterlife is hard on the libido? FYI, that’s probably not a good bullet point for your recruiting brochure.
FYI, there are basically only three things besides a vest that will stop a bullet: a tree trunk, the engine block of a car, and a U.S. mailbox: if you are ever caught in gunfire, find one of those.
I have a great editor and I enjoy, in a masochistic way, being ruthless about my own performance. How do I know, but I think I'm quite good at saying, "That's no good. That's no good. That's it. That's it. That's good." And I'm with the editor who goes, "No, I think you're wrong. That's not your best." There's an initial point in the editing, if you're directing yourself, especially in my case, where you go, "Ouch, ouch, ouch, I can't watch this." And then, there's a point where you become hard-nosed and just take your neurosis away and go, "What's working? That's okay. That's okay. We can lose that, and lose that." You get objective about it.
It was the combination of many factors... With most people, suicide is like Russian roulette. Only one chamber has a bullet. With the Lisbon girls, the gun was loaded. A bullet for family abuse. A bullet for genetic predisposition. A bullet for historical malaise. A bullet for inevitable momentum. The other two bullets are impossible to name, but that doesn't mean the chambers were empty.
The transformation of object-libido into narcissistic libido which thus takes place obviously implies an abandonment of sexual aims, a desexualization - a kind of sublimation, therefore.
The hard part that I didn't like about recruiting in college was, there was so many regulations. So many rules. It was so many layers to it in the recruiting that I just got fed up with it.
I'm simply a nonbeliever and have been forever. ... I'm interested in saying, 'Let us discuss the existential question. We are all going to die, that is the end of all consciousness. There is no afterlife. There is no God. Now what do we do.' That's the point where it starts getting interesting to me.
I haven't written a brochure yet. It's killing me. I know I have a brochure or pamphlet in me yet.
It's so hard saying goodbye... it's hard saying good bye to all the things that one has held dear for weeks, months, sometimes years.
All these freshmen have come in here and worked hard from the beginning. I can't say enough good things about them. They were the No. 1 recruiting class in the country and they're confidant. They know they are the best. That doesn't mean they slack off. They work really hard. Now it's time to go out there and compete.
The soldiers that didn't come back were the heroes. It's a roll of the dice. If a bullet has your name on it, you're a hero. If you hear a bullet go by, you're a survivor.
If you want to believe in reincarnation, you have to believe that this life, what you're living through right now, is the afterlife. You're missing out on the afterlife you looked forward to in your last existence by worrying about your next life. This is what happens after you die. Take a look.
The point of asking questions is to find true answers; the point of measuring is to measure accurately; the point of making maps is to find your way to your destination... In short, the goal of truth goes without saying, in every human culture.
You can't see a pistol bullet and you can't see a M14 bullet. One is traveling at 800 feet per second, the other is traveling at 4000, where you get to the point that you can't see it, that much faster than something you can't see is not physiologically interesting to you.
Writing a song isn't that hard. Writing a good song is difficult. Let's face it, we're faced with taking a complex feeling or event, making words rhyme and saying exactly what we want them to say in a short amount of time. ...the primary reason for keeping it short and to the point is to be certain that you're not boring your audience.
Take a shot in front of D.L. Probing for a vein in my dirty bare foot... Junkies have no shame... They are impervious to the repugnance of others. It is doubtful if shame can exist in the absence of sexual libido... The junky's shame disappears with his nonsexual sociability which is also dependent on libido.
Just FYI, in your case, I think it’s okay to fear the reaper.
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