A Quote by Travis Scott

Sometimes I might be sleepy, and sometimes I've literally been sleeping backstage, woken up, gone straight on stage or gone crazy. It's not like I psyche myself; I don't do any of that.
I have heard sometimes that men who lose an arm of a leg still feel that pain in those limbs, though they are gone,' said Will. 'It is like that sometimes. I can feel Jem with me, though he is gone, and it is like I am missing a part of myself.
My ideal setting is I walk from the streets, backstage, and straight onto the stage. Two minutes, and I am on the stage. That way, in my head I have gone from my world and then into a social setting with my friends.
Big train from Memphis, now it's gone gone gone, gone gone gone. Like no one before, he let out a roar, and I just had to tag along.
I do like touring. Sometimes it's crazy. We're really lucky and we've gone all over the world. You can't complain about getting paid to see the world. I've had to reel myself in a little bit at some points.
It's a weird league in the sense that sometimes you get goals when they definitely shouldn't have gone in, and sometimes you're doing everything right and it's just not going in. It's the way it goes. I think every player who's ever played in this league has gone through it.
I might sound like a crazy person, but that's the way I pump myself up. You know how some people are just like 'I have to talk about it'? Sometimes I'll call my husband and we'll talk about it, sometimes I have to talk to myself in the mirror. So I start talking to myself: 'You got this. Don't think of this as Sports Illustrated, just think about this as the best swimsuit campaign you've done in your life. And just kill it and own it and don't put that pressure on yourself.'
SOmetimes life isn't fair, and straight people are straight up crazy.
Sometimes as a player, you're not there yet. The doctor can tell you the headache is gone, but he don't totally know that it is gone unless he can get in your head.
If I ever interview somebody, I make sure I listen to them. As a comedian, I've gone on so many shows, I've wanted to take things to a crazy place. Sometimes the hosts don't like that.
I think that by staying out of shape at the age of 33 I'm doing myself a huge favor for my future. There will never be anyone commenting on how I've 'let myself go.' I've gone. It's gone. It's not going, it's GONE.
Backstage, I get sleepy, and want to curl up and snooze. I never get nervous, whatever the event. I feel quite detached until I walk on stage, and then some gear inside me clicks and off I go like a wind up doll.
Time, Baby - so much, so much time left until the end of my life - sometimes I go crazy at how slowly time passes yet how quickly my body ages. But I shouldn't allow myself to think like this. I have to remind myself that time only frightens me when I think of having to spend it alone. Sometimes I scare myself with how many of my thoughts revolve around making me feel better about sleeping alone in a room.
song of elli (old age) "What is plucked will grow again, What is slain lives on, What is stolen will remain What is gone is gone... What is sea-born dies on land, Soft is trod upon. What is given burns the hand - What is gone is gone... Here is there, and high is low; All may be undone. What is true, no two men know - What is gone is gone... Who has choices need not choose. We must, who have none. We can love but what we lose - What is gone is gone.
Sometimes I feel like being an intellectual. Sometimes I like to just be aggressive and all the way in my feelings. Sometimes I might be emotional, or sometimes I might drag on the track and be lazy. I just like to share the different states of existence of Kevin Gates with the rest of the world.
I am overworked sometimes. I'm tired sometimes. I'm sleepy sometimes. And social media allows me to show you that I'm human, too.
The paintings that laughed at him merrily from the walls were like nothing he had ever seen or dreamed of. Gone were the flat, thin surfaces. Gone was the sentimental sobriety. Gone was the brown gravy in which Europe had been bathing its pictures for centuries. Here were pictures riotously mad with the sun. With light and air and throbbing vivacity. Paintings of ballet girls backstage, done in primitive reds, greens, and blues thrown next to each other irreverantly. He looked at the signature. Degas.
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