A Quote by Richard Matheson

Let the jagged edge of sobriety be now dulled. — © Richard Matheson
Let the jagged edge of sobriety be now dulled.
Jagged Edge is one of my favorite R&B groups.
I miss all of the singing from the '90s; I miss groups. There are no groups like Jagged Edge and SWV or Brownstone.
I'm very proud of my sobriety now.
Tranquillizers do not change our environment, nor do they change our personalities. They merely reduce our responsiveness to stimuli. They dull the keen edge of the angers, fears, or anxiety with which we might otherwise react to the problems of living. Once the response has been dulled, the irritating surface noise of living muted or eliminated, the spark and brilliance are also gone.
I have other obligations now - the show, my family, my life... though I know that without my sobriety I wouldn't have any of those things.
I'd rather that England should be free than that England should be compulsorily sober. With freedom we might in the end attain sobriety, but in the other alternative we should eventually lose both freedom and sobriety.
I've been sober now for a couple of years and I'm taking my sobriety very seriously - one day at a time and I am moving forward in my career.
Contact with [menstrual blood] turns new wine sour, crops touched by it become barren, grafts die, seed in gardens are dried up, the fruit of trees fall off, the edge of steel and the gleam of ivory are dulled, hives of bees die, even bronze and iron are at once seized by rust, and a horrible smell fills the air; to taste it drives dogs mad and infects their bites with an incurable poison.
His temperament is always there to be questioned because he plays on the edge. That is just the way he plays. It is a cliche but if you took that edge away from Wayne he wouldn't be the same player and I would rather have the Wayne Rooney we have now.
Ya think that the whiskey tastes good? Try a big cup of sobriety - now that is the good stuff!
There are loads of fan sites for the 'Edge,' including deviant art, song lyrics using 'Edge' language, multiple entries on Wikipedia, there are even some 'Who Wants To Be A Millionaire?' games all about the 'Edge.'
We cannot evolve faster than our language. The edge of being is the edge of meaning, and somehow we have to push the edge of meaning. We have to extend it.
The Edge...There is no honest way to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who have gone over. The others-the living-are those who pushed their control as far as they felt they could handle it, and then pulled back, or slowed down, or did whatever they had to when it came time to choose between Now and Later. But the edge is still Out there.
My once-keen analytical mind has become so dulled by endless hours of baking in the hot sun, thrashing about in tight chimneys, pulling at impossibly heavy loads, freezing my ass off.... so that now my mental state is comparable to that of a Peruvian Indian, well stoked on coca leaves.
When I wake, a piece of sharp green glass on the floor is cutting into my hand and I know it's a sign. I etch a letter on my hand; put it on top so I can see the jagged edges bleeding out; S. S is for sorrow, for all I don't say. S is for sick now, my punishing ways.
Empathy took the edge off, and the truth is, we need our edge. Our edge is trying to speak to us, and we are too, too good at shutting it up.
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