A Quote by Steven Wright
My friend Sally is a nudist. I went to her house. The closets have no doors. The walls are covered with see-through wallpaper.
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She goes where she pleases. She appears unhoped for, uncalled for. She moves through doors and walls and windows. Her thoughts move through minds. She enters dreams. She vanishes and is still there. She knows the future and sees through flesh. She is not afraid of anything.
One day, Sally Kirkland said to Diana Vreeland, who was the fashion editor of Harper's Bazaar at the time, "I have a young woman I want you to meet. She's very young, but I think you should meet her." When Sally Kirkland told me this, I said, "I can't possibly do that! I'm going to throw up! That's the scariest thing I've ever heard! I can't do that, Sally. I'm not ready to do that!" But Sally said, "You let them make that decision." I was absolutely terrified.
Our immigration system needs walls and doors. We need walls to stop illegal immigration, but we also need to doors to allow people to come here legally.
I slowly climbed back to my feet, walked back into the emergency department through the silently swishing glass doors, and, covered in my girlfriend's blood, lied perfectly for the first time in my life. "I tried to stop her.
Why is she Mrs. C.J. Walker? It really was a matter of her trying to insist that people respect her, because during that time, white people would call any black woman 'Sally.' 'Aunt Sally.' So this was like... you can't call me that.
There are designers who say, 'Oh! I see wallpaper and blue carpet.' I usually start by knocking down walls. 'You thought you just needed some new drapes? Well, guess what: That wall's gotta go.'
I've spoken of the shining city all my political life, but I don't know if I ever quite communicated what I saw when I said it. But in my mind it was a tall, proud city built on rocks stronger than oceans, windswept, God-blessed, and teeming with people of all kinds living in harmony and peace; a city with free ports that hummed with commerce and creativity. And if there had to be city walls, the walls had doors and the doors were open to anyone with the will and heart to get there. That's how I saw it, and see it still.
I met Rubina at a friend's house during Ganpati. I checked her out as she looked resplendent in a sari. You generally see girls in western clothes and then you get to see that someone can look so stunning in a sari as well. So I saw her and I was like, wow she's beautiful.
Kafka could never have written as he did had he lived in a house. His writing is that of someone whose whole life was spent in apartments, with lifts, stairwells, muffled voices behind closed doors, and sounds through walls. Put him in a nice detached villa and he'd never have written a word.
To be honest, I thought it was similar to animal husbandry." Sally's tone turned dry. "Sometimes, my lady I'm afraid it isn't that different." Pippa paused, considering the ords. "Is that so?" "Men are uncomplicated, generally," Sally said, all too sage. "They're beasts when they want to be." "Brute ones!" "Ah, so you understand." Pippa tilted her head to one side. "I've read about them." Sally nodded. "Erotic texts?" "The book of Common Prayer.
I've always been painting, even as a little girl I was painting on the doors and walls of our house.
grief is a house where the chairs have forgotten how to hold us the mirrors how to reflect us the walls how to contain us grief is a house that disappears each time someone knocks at the door or rings the bell a house that blows into the air at the slightest gust that buries itself deep in the ground while everyone is sleeping grief is a house where no on can protect you where the younger sister will grow older than the older one where the doors no longer let you in or out
But I feel as if I did know Rue, and she'll always be with me. Everything beautiful brings her to mind. I see her in the yellow flowers that grow in the Meadow by my house. I see her in the Mockingjays that sing in the trees. But most of all, I see her in my sister, Prim.
Perhaps you can feel if you can’t hear,” was her fancy. “Perhaps kind thoughts reach people somehow, even through windows and doors and walls. Perhaps you feel a little warm and comforted, and don’t know why, when I am standing here in the cold and hoping you will get well and happy again.
Superhero power... I probably would just want to fly. I definitely would not want to be able to see through walls. I think walls are there for a reason. People put them up for a reason. You don't want to be looking through them. That would only cause nothing but misery and angst to know what's happening behind people's walls.
His lips covered hers as he laid the gauze on her leg. Fiery pain shot through her flesh as his lips swallowed her cry, then replaced it with such amazing sensation she wanted to whimper in return. He licked her lips. He didn’t steal her kiss. He didn’t take it. He cajoled it from her.
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