A Quote by Stephenie Meyer
For one half second, I wondered what it would feel like to put my hand in the fire. What it would feel like when I burned.
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I wondered if the fire had been out to get me. I wondered if all fire was related, like Dad said all humans were related, if the fire that had burned me that day while I cooked hot dogs was somehow connected o the fire I had flushed down the toilet and the fire burning at the hotel. I didn't have the answers to those questions, but what I did know was that I lived in a world that at any moment could erupt into fire. It was the sort of knowledge that kept you on your toes.
I would love to be married. But it's not a necessity like the way that I feel I need and want to have children. It would be wonderful to have a husband, and I would feel blessed to do it. But I would feel sad for the rest of my life if I had no kids.
As the last drops fell from the glass to my tongue, I wondered - only for an instant - what perhaps I'd never know. What would it taste like, what would it feel like, if that liquid sliding down my throat was not champagne. But the elixir of life. Katheine Neville.
Writing a book is something I actually feel like I could do. I don't know when that would happen, but I feel like if the right idea strikes, whether it be short stories or a novel or even a memoir that would be more substantial than most of the comedian memoirs people put out where it's big font and all the chapters are like ten pages long.
Hell came right along with God, hand in hand. The stink of sulfur swirled in the air of the church, fire burned in the aisles, and brimstone rained out of the rafters. From the evangelist's oven mouth spewed images of a place with pitchforks, and devils, and lakes of fire that burned forever. God had fixed a place like that because he loved us so much.
What would you do? Would you jump? Would you feel pity for yourself? Would you think about your family and your childhood and your dreams and all you're leaving behind? Would it hurt? Would it feel like dying? Would you cry, as I did?
Home is not fixed - the feeling of home changes as you change. There are places that used to feel like home that don't feel like home anymore. Like, I would go back to Rome to see my parents, and I would feel at home then. But if my parents were not in Rome, which is my city where I was born, I would not feel at home. It's connected to people. It's connected to a person I love.
Even now, as I write this, I can still feel that tightness. And I want you to feel it--the wind coming off the river, the waves, the silence, the wooded frontier. You're at the bow of a boat on the Rainy River. You're twenty-one years old, you're scared, and there's a hard squeezing pressure in your chest. What would you do? Would you jump? Would you feel pity for yourself? Would you think about your family and your childhood and your dreams and all you're leaving behind? Would it hurt? Would it feel like dying? Would you cry, as I did?
It's strange: I love pop music, and I really can enjoy it, but I didn't feel like the characters within pop music - like when Madonna sings 'Crazy For You', for instance, I don't feel like I would ever be the character she takes on in that song. I would never feel... I don't have that confidence in me.
I just feel like there's something to be said about feeling comfortable with what you have and don't have. And - for instance, I don't think I'm particularly a great singer, but I feel like I write songs that complement my voice, you know, and I feel like it's unique. And I don't feel like I'm particularly a great actor, for instance, but I feel like I approach each thing that I do with some level of sensitivity. And I would say that comedy in general is the most disarming.
I feel like if I were to play the game completely and just get myself in a giant bottle of nail polish and put myself on display, I would feel like I had somehow cosmically lost. I feel like I'm taking a bunch of the ingredients and using some of them but not all of them and shuffling around and making people think I'm doing my job.
When I was young, I was supposed to study in the afternoon, and 4 - 5:30 P.M. was playtime. The entire day would revolve around that time. We would play anything - kabaddi, cricket. Those one and half hours would feel like 5 minutes.
Usually, whenever my mom would come over I would try and put on music that I thought she would like just to make her feel more at ease.
But here's the thing: I had this great job, and I would still feel terribly depressed. I would just be like, 'This isn't the sweet spot. I thought this would be it, and I don't feel happy.
But here's the thing: I had this great job, and I would still feel terribly depressed. I would just be like, 'This isn't the sweet spot. I thought this would be it, and I don't feel happy.'
For if any man who never saw fire proved by satisfactory arguments that fire burns. His hearer's mind would never be satisfied, nor would he avoid the fire until he put his hand in it that he might learn by experiment what argument taught.
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