A Quote by Tori Amos

I'm a winter girl. I like coming out when things are desolate and everybody's ready to slit their wrists.

Tori Amos

Quote Topics

Coming Coming Out Desolate Everybody Girl Like Out Ready Slit Things Winter Wrists

Quote Author

Tori Amos
American - Musician
Born: August 22, 1963

Singing songs that make you slit your wrists

Gerard Way

What else is there to do in college except drink beer or slit one's wrists?

Bret Easton Ellis

I think that everybody that's coming out to Warped Tour, when they come to see the show, they're always like; let's go see that band that band that band and... that girl. I think that I tend to be that girl sometimes and I think that it's cool that I get to hang out with this Summer camp of smelly boys.

Katy Perry

Before I would hurt a child, I would slit my wrists.

Michael Jackson

Do not think I do not realise what I am doing. I am making a composition using the following elements: the winter beach; the winter moon; the ocean; the women; the pine trees; the riders; the driftwood; the shells; the shapes of darkness and the shapes of water; and the refuse. These are all inimical to my loneliness because of their indifference to it. Out of these pieces of inimical indifference, I intend to represent the desolate smile of winter which, as you must have gathered, is the smile I wear.

Angela Carter

When death comes, it's just like winter. We don't say, "There ought not to be winter." That the winter season, when the leaves fall and the snow comes, is some kind of defeat, something which we should hold out against. No. Winter is part of the natural course of events. No winter, no summer. No cold, no heat.

Alan Watts

Once at a record store in San Francisco, over a thousand kids showed up. They pushed forward and broke a window. A big piece of glass fell on top of this girl. And the girl's throat was slit. She just got slit. And I remember there was blood everywhere. Oh God, so much blood. And she grabbed her throat and was bleeding and everyone just ignored her. Why? Because I was there and they wanted to grab at me and get my autograph. I wonder whatever happened to that girl.

Michael Jackson

This [health care reform] cannot pass. What we have to do today is make a covenant, to slit our wrists, be blood brothers on this thing. This will not pass.

Michele Bachmann

I started out doing things like 'Flash Forward,' where I was the girl-next-door, and then, I did a show called 'Higher Ground,' where I played this really mean, sarcastic girl. Then 'Firefly' happened, and everybody thought of me as this bubbly, sweet girl-next-door again.

Jewel Staite

The wrists, the Achilles' tendons, and the neck are some of the weakest points of the human body, so a lot of people have phobias about those things. I can't deal with the undersides of wrists.

Kristin Gore

Film 'This Changes Everything' is not a sad story. It's not a slit-your-wrists climate film. It's a story about people who are making change happen.

Avi Lewis

I was seeing this girl and she wanted to get more serious. But I wasn't ready to, I had just gotten out of a difficult relationship before that. So I said to her, 'Listen, you have to understand something. Relationships are like eyebrows. It's better when there's a space between them.' And that's coming from a Greek guy.

Demetri Martin

Before moving to L.A., I was working with a lot of people who were manipulating me, where they either wanted to put things out immediately or didn't - I was on everybody else's time frame. But once I was on my own, I was like, 'You know what? I'm going to do this right and take my time, and I'll put things out only when I'm ready.'

Sabrina Claudio

You spend so much of your life crafting this stuff that you want to laugh in the room. I don't want to sit there and slit my wrists. And I think it reflects reality. People use humor to survive, even in the most horrific situations.

Jenji Kohan

What a contrast between the stern and desolate poetry of Ossian, and that of Chaucer, and even of Shakespeare and Milton, much more of Dryden, and Pope, and Gray! Our summer of English poetry, like the Greek and Latin before it, seems well advanced towards its fall, and laden with the fruit and foliage of the season, with bright autumnal tints, but soon the winter will scatter its myriad clustering and shading leaves, and leave only a few desolate and fibrous boughs to sustain the snow and rime, and creak in the blasts of age.