Stand in front of the firing squad with your head held high and take the bullets. It's okay, eventually the bullets will run out. You will fall down and rise again, no big deal.
There must come a time when the bullets will run out
The weapons of the positive revolution are not bullets and bombs but simple human perceptions. Bullets and bombs may offer physical power but eventually will only work if they change perceptions and values. Why not go the direct route and work with perceptions and values?
Books are a better investment in our future than bullets. Books, not bullets, will pave the path towards peace and prosperity.
I do enjoy running down a ditch full of mud, firing bullets. It’s the way I am. I love it.
Spiritual growth is like learning to walk.
We stand up, fall, stand up, fall, take a step, fall, take a couple of steps, fall, walk a little better, wobble a bit, fall, run, and finally, eventually fly.
If I held a revolver to your head, James, and pulled the trigger, would it really matter if I did not know that there were not bullets in the chambers?
When it comes to understanding the nuts and bolts of the details of any policy, the elites haven't the slightest idea. I'm sure you've done this, too. In every gun control debate, somebody, some smart aleck will pop up and say the truth. The guns not killing anybody. The person pulling the trigger is. And then somebody will say, you know if you people were really serious, you'd ban bullets, a gun's worthless without bullets. And here we are. Here we are. Isn't it much easier to ban the production, the manufacture, and the sale of bullets than guns?
In 'Sisters of War,' I got to do one of my own stunts. Running out of the building because the Japanese were firing, with all these little spark plugs are going off, looking like explosions and bullets flying down. That was really fun.
It was Russia, January 5, 1943, and just another icy day. Out among the city and snow, there were dead Russians and Germans everywhere. Those who remained were firing into the blank pages in front of them. Three languages interwove. The Russian, the bullets, the German.
Bullets on a presentation slide are too often like bullets in a gun - deadly for those on the receiving end.
The Washington Bullets are changing their name. They don't want their team to be associated with crime. From now on, they'll just be known as the Bullets.
Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes, and when again they open, the sun will rise.
It was absolutely killing me that I've spent the first 25 years of my life tryin' to avoid bullets. That was always the main concern. Don't go out late. Don't go to any shady neighborhoods. Don't hang in bars alone. Why? Because you wanna avoid bullets. So once I get to 35 then I was like "Woo, okay. Made it." And now there's a new warning. Now it's like strokes; I gotta watch my health.
People who disagree with His Excellency, the President for Life and 'Chief of Chiefs,' are frequently found to be the victims of car crashes (their bodies mysteriously riddled with bullets); or dead in their beds of heart attacks (their bodies mysteriously riddled with bullets); or the recipients of some not-quite-fresh seafood (their bodies mysteriously riddled with bullets).
Maybe there are only atheists in foxholes. If the faithful truly and fully believe in a protective deity, why would they dive into a foxhole to protect themselves from the bullets whizzing by ? A part of their brain knows damn well that if they do not protect themselves, the bullets will hardly discriminate between those who claim faith and those who reject it.
Sig Sauer. Nine millimetres. Thirteen in the magazine. Big bullets. One of these hits you and it could blow your head off; something even the magic can't fix. Other than that you should be all right, presuming you remembered to wear the regulation above-ground micro-fibre jumpsuit recently patented by me. Then again, being a Recon jock, you probably didn't.