A Quote by Slick Rick
Take off your rubber and there's one more inside her, it's not yours, who can it be?
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This body is yours. No one can ever take it from you, if only you will accept yourself, claim it again--your arms, your spine, your ribs, the small of your back. It's all yours. All this bounty, all this beauty, all this strength and grace is yours. This garden is yours. Take it back. Take it back.
The second time I was pregnant friends would give me rubber bands to gnaw, because the first time, I had chewed things like a rubber bit that fell off the dishwasher. I remember driving once in the rain and the smell of my rubber-soled shoes in the damp caused me to pull over and start chomping on the rubber mat.
If you want to give birth to your true self, you are going to have to dig deep down into that body of yours and let your soul howl. Sometimes you have to take a leap of faith and trust that if you turn off your head, your feet will take you where you need to go.
"Externality" is a different phenomenon from akrasia and doesn't always come with it. The set of desires and actions from which one feels alienated isn't always the same as the set of desires and actions of which one disapproves. It has been pointed out that you can disapprove of something inside yourself but still experience it as yours ("damn it, here I go again!"). In addition, you can approve of something inside yourself but feel like it's not yours ("when the emergency sirens went off, it was as if someone calmer and more reasonable took over and knew just what to do").
Also, I designed a pretty fascinating bracelet, where you put a rubber band around your favorite book of poems for a year, and then you take it off and wear it.
The thing about light is that it really isn’t yours; it’s what you gather and shine back. And it gets more power from reflectiveness; if you sit still and take it in, it fills your cup, and then you can give it off yourself.
Take my heart and mold it; take my mind, transform it; take my will, conform it - to Yours, to Yours, to Yours.
Kyo: Of course, I'll beat YOU, too! Yuki: Don't you ever get tired of saying that? Kyo: Beating you is my vocation! It's my goal in life! Yuki: It's so unfair that I keep having to take abuse just because you can't meet your goals. Kyo: THAT CONDESCENDING ATTITUDE OF YOURS REALLY PISSES ME OFF! Yuki: And that revolting thought process of yours pisses me off.
What you see is from outside yourself, and may come, or not, but is beyond your control. But your fear is yours, and yours alone, like your voice, or your fingers, or your memory, and therefore yours to control. If you feel powerless over your fear, you have not yet admitted that it is yours, to do with as you will.
If doubtful whether to end with "yours faithfully," or "yours truly," or "yours most truly," &c. (there are at least a dozen varieties, before you reach "yours affectionately"), refer to your correspondent's last letter, and make your winding-up at least as friendly as his: in fact, even if a shade more friendly, it will do no harm!
God has put a dream inside you. It's yours, and no one else's. It declares your uniqueness. It holds your potential. Only you can birth it. Only you can live it. Not to discover it, take responsibility for it, and act upon it is to negatively affect yourself as well as all those who would benefit from your dream.
At a wedding last week, my wife said: 'Isn't the bride beautiful ?' When I responded by saying, 'Yeah, but her blowjobs aren't half as good as yours', she got all pissed off. Women - they can't take a compliment!
She stood there until something fell off the shelf inside her. Then she went inside there to see what it was. It was her image of Jody tumbled down and shattered. But looking at it she saw that it never was the flesh and blood figure of her dreams. Just something she had grabbed up to drape her dreams over.
...Listen to your own thoughts and feelings very carefully, be aware of your observations, and learn to value them. When you're a teenager—and even when you're older—lots of people will try to tell you what to think and feel. Try to stand still inside all of that and hear your own voice. It's yours and only yours, it's unique and worth of your attention, and if you cultivate it properly, it might just make you a writer.
Nothing you love is lost. Not really. Things, people—they always go away, sooner or later. You can’t hold them, any more than you can hold moonlight. But if they’ve touched you, if they’re inside you, then they’re still yours. The only things you ever really have are the ones you hold inside your heart.
Do grant, oh my God, that when my lips approach Yours to kiss You, I may taste the gall that was given to You; when my shoulders lean against Yours, make me feel Your scourging; when my flesh is united with Yours, in the Holy Eucharist, make me feel Your passion; when my head comes near Yours, make me feel Your thorns; when my heart is close to Yours, make me feel Your spear.
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