Cut these words and they would bleed; they are vascular and alive.
'Writing' is the wrong way to describe what happens to words in a movie. First, you put down words. Then you rehearse them with actors. Then you shoot the words. Then you edit them. You cut a lot of them, you fudge them, you make up new ones in voice-over. Then you cut it and throw it all away.
This is writing. You cut out chunks of your own memories, rework them, bleed into them, breathe into the raw clay, and hope the creature lives.
I felt him there with me. The real David. My David. David, you are still here. Alive. Alive in me.Alive in the galaxy.Alive in the stars.Alive in the sky.Alive in the sea.Alive in the palm trees.Alive in feathers.Alive in birds.Alive in the mountains.Alive in the coyotes.Alive in books.Alive in sound.Alive in mom.Alive in dad.Alive in Bobby.Alive in me.Alive in soil.Alive in branches.Alive in fossils.Alive in tongues.Alive in eyes.Alive in cries.Alive in bodies.Alive in past, present and future. Alive forever.
....both had learned that everything could change in an instant, and that the heartfelt vows of people in love were fragile words that, once shattered, could cut so deeply you'd bleed forever.
Ultraconservatism is, to me, so illogical. Everywhere you go, conservatives want to cut, cut, cut, cut - cut money for powerless people. So, that's the biggest problem I have with them.
If you cut me open I bleed East London.
If you cut him, (John Bunyan) he'd bleed Scripture!
If you cut Jamie Carragher open, he'll bleed red.
People never think of entertainers as being human. When you walk out on stage, the audience think, 'Nothing can go wrong with them.' We get sick and we have headaches just like they do. When we are cut, we bleed.
People never think of entertainers as being human. When you walk out on stage, the audience think, Nothing can go wrong with them. We get sick and we have headaches just like they do. When we are cut, we bleed.
If Rilke cut himself shaving, he would bleed poetry.
I'm just like anyone. I cut and I bleed. And I embarass easily.
The main thing is to not cut yourself and bleed to death in the tub.
I cut the taxes on everybody. I didn't cut them. The Congress cut them. I asked them to cut them.
For exactly the same reason, it is sometimes satisfying to cut yourself and bleed. On those gray [sic] days where eight in the morning looks no different from noon and nothing has happened and nothing is going to happen and you are washing a glass in the sink and it breaks - accidentally - and punctures your skin. And then there is this shocking red, the brightest thing in the day, so vibrant it buzzes, this blood of yours. That is okay sometimes because at least you know you're alive.