I have lived a carnal life. My view of life is 'If you're going to miss Heaven, why miss it by two inches? Miss it!' I don't have to go through the thing of paying for it in the next life. I know I'm screwed in the next life.
Lord, what if I miss You? What if I miss You? What if I miss You? Oh, I'm so scared! God, what if I miss You? He answered simply, "Joyce, don't worry; if you miss Me, I will find you.
Putting is so difficult, so universally vexing, that the best the pros can do is tell us how to miss. 'Miss it on the pro side,' they say, meaning miss it above the hole. I can't even do that consistently. I miss it on the pro side. I miss it on the amateur side. I miss it on both sides of the clown's mouth.
I miss the fears. I miss that. I miss going over the middle and not knowing if I'm going to make that play. I think that's the part of the game you miss the most, that excitement of it. Then you think of the physical part as a retired player and I'm like, 'hell no.'
Slow down and enjoy life. It's not only the scenery you miss by going to fast - you also miss the sense of where you are going and why.
I mean, I've - these other films were flukes. I don't know what I'm doing. I should just quit. What would I miss? I'd miss my house and I'd miss going to work. But I think the thing that I realized I would miss most is probably similar to everybody, which is your friends.
I miss the hot spots. I miss the hospital calls. I miss the nursing homes. I miss the really intimate human contact with other people, which I did nothing to earn.
Do I miss the players? Do I miss the smell of the stadiums? Do I miss the adrenaline that comes from being there? I miss that a lot.
I do miss the people in the audience and the fun: "I came with my mother! And this is my mother!" I miss that. I miss: "My cousin and I came all the way from...." I miss that. I don't miss this - who is left to interview?
What do you miss about being alive?" The sound of my mom singing, a little off-key. The way my dad went to all my swim meets and I could hear his whistle when my head was underwater, even if he did yell at me afterward for not trying harder. I miss going to the library. I miss the smell of clothes fresh out of the dryer. I miss diving off the highest board and nailing the landing. I miss waffles" - p. 272.
There are a lot of things about playing football that I miss. More than anything, I miss competing. I miss the camaraderie. I miss the locker room and the huddle and those kinds of things.
I won't miss having to stand for two hours at 4:30 a.m. and have freezing cold glue applied to my feet. I won't miss two-hour drives to work or long, long, long days sitting in my trailer waiting...waiting...waiting. I won't miss one day off a week. I won't miss glue in my ears. But I would do it all again tomorrow.
About 10 percent of the time, I miss 3 to 5 percent of the game. I look back, and I'm happy that I played. I'm not wistful. You miss big games. I miss the locker room camaraderie. Sometimes I miss the lifestyle.
If I happen to have another baby or something like that, I'd probably move back to Louisiana. I do miss Louisiana. I miss the people. I miss the food. I miss the way of life, how everything is really simple. There's no traffic like there is in L.A. It's really nice.
We gather the things we learned, and they don't nearly add up to fill the space of a life. You will miss the taste of Froot Loops. You will miss the sound of traffic. You will miss your back against his. You will miss him stealing the sheets. Do not ignore these things.
I used to go missing a lot... Miss Canada, Miss United Kingdom, Miss World.