A Quote by Richelle Mead

Adrian suddenly glanced up at me. Our gazes locked, and I felt like he could read my mind. How often did he think about that kiss? And if he really was crazy about me, did he imagine more than just kissing? Did he fantasize about me? What kinds of things did he think about? His lips on my neck? His hand on my leg? And was that leg bare . . . ?
I always think about the role models I had when I was a little girl. They really made me feel how big I could dream, they made me feel I could do things that I did not think I could do before. And because of them, I went and did what I did and I am where I am now.
A lot of my music is just self-observation. Like telling you, "Oh man. What did I just do? How much did I just pay for this chain? Why did I do that? Wait a minute." Let me talk about that. Or like, the temptation. Let me talk about that. Let me observe myself.
I have no idea what I did. I heard people talk about dead leg, shake, change of pace and all that, but I did things without thinking about them.
I felt like all of the American people did not believe me because of the things that were said about me, and said that people would say that it was just for the money, and it wasn't about the money. It was about what he did to me. And I knew I was telling the truth.
How can you be sure?" "I'm a doctor, Jenna. And a scientist." "Does that make you an authority on everything? What about a soul, Father? When you were so busy implanting all your neural chips, did you think about that? Did you snip my soul from my old body, too? Where did you put it? Show me! Where? Where in all this groundbreaking technology did you insert my soul?
I was heading in a self destructive direction. My priority wasn't together, wasn't in order. So me getting locked up was actually a blessing for me. It helped for me to see the light. Once you get the rug snatched from under you - I had my career and family snatched from me, and I was forced to just sit there in that box for three years and think about what I did and how selfish I was, it made me really see things with new eyes, like, hold up, why was I doing that? What the hell was I thinking about? I gotta change. Something's got to give. I can't ever come back in this place again.
And I think at the end of my life, it's not going to be about what I did for myself, but what I did for others. Maybe it's staying after practice to do hand signals with the guys to help them get caught up to speed. To make it about others - I think that's what leadership is all about, quarterbacking is all about.
Did you think you could have the good without the evil? Did you think you could have the joy without the sorrow? . . . . I have been thinking much about pain. How could I help it? . . . . Sooner or later, regardless of the wit of man, we have pain to face; a reality; a final inescapable, immutable fact of life. What poor souls, if we have then no philosophy to face it with! This pain will not last; it never has lasted. I'll think about what I am going to write tomorrow-not about me, not about my body.
I think I'm still just as conflicted about the war as I always was. On the one hand, I was a soldier carrying out his duty, following his allegiance to his country and to the mission at hand. But yet, there was always this unease plaguing me. "What are we doing here?" "Are we really fixing this country or are we doing more harm than good?" And the most pressing question: "How do we pull ourselves out of this quicksand?" I think I'm still there in that white space you mentioned, trying to get clarity for myself on what this war did to us as a nation.
I was called up in the war and sent to a hospital. I dressed wounds, applied iodine, gave enemas, did blood transfusions. If the doctor ordered: "Brecht, amputate a leg!", I would reply, "Certainly, Your Excellency!", and cut off the leg. If I was told, "Perform a trepanning!" I opened the man's skull and messed about with his brains. I saw how they patched fellows up, so as to cart them back to the Front as quickly as they could.
I love kissing. If I could kiss all day, I would. I can’t stop thinking about kissing. I like kissing more than sex because there’s no end to it. You can kiss forever. You can kiss yourself into oblivion. You can kiss all over the body. You can kiss yourself to sleep. And when you wake up, you can’t stop thinking about kissing. Dammit, I can’t get anything done because I’m so busy thinking about kissing. Kissing is madness! But it’s absolute paradise, if you can find a good kisser.
What did it matter to me? Did I think that by making you rational about one thing, I could make you rational about everything? Maybe. Or maybe I just wanted to save you from your fears
I didn't really make up my mind to be an actor until I did 'The Hitcher' with Rutger Hauer. I was about 17 or 18 when I did that, by which point I'd probably done a dozen or more movies or TV things, but 'The Hitcher' was the experience that made me want to study and commit and learn how to do this for my life.
Even in this case, whatever it is, it's about [Barack] Obama. "How did Obama do at the memorial? Did Obama come off well? Will Obama's poll numbers go up? Did he really reach people?" The hell that there are 53 people dead. Nobody cares about them, like nobody cared about the four dead in Benghazi. All the media cared about, how did Obama do?
Yes, I did shatter my leg, and it really changed my life, in a way. It wasn't much fun, but it did open me up, and as we all know intuitively, adversity can develop resources.
If I had it my way, I would have just kept it short forever. Of course, men like long hair. There's no two ways about it. The majority of the boys around me were like, 'Why did you do that? That's such an error.' And I was like, 'Well, honestly, I don't really care what you think!' I've never felt so confident as I did with short hair - I felt really good in my own skin.
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