Instead of trying to fit an impossible ideal, I took a personal inventory of all my healthy body parts for which I am grateful: Straight Greek eyebrows. They start at the hairline at my temple and, left unchecked, will grow straight across my face and onto yours.
Keep going; never stop; sit tight; Read something luminous at night.
My life is routine. I wake up early in the morning. I brush my teeth. I sit on the floor of the cell I do not go to breakfast. I stare at a gray cement wall. I keep my legs crossed my back straight my eyes forward. I take deep breaths in and out, in and out, and I try not to move. I sit for as long as I can I sit until everything hurts I sit until everything stops hurting I sit until I lose myself in the gray wall I sit until my mind becomes as blank as the gray wall. I sit and I stare and I breathe. I sit and I stare. I breathe.
As long as all four of my limbs keep moving and I can still sit up straight and play hard rock and roll for 2 and a half to 3 hours, I'm gonna keep doing it, and I'm gonna do it the way I do it.
I'm not a guy who makes five or 10 moves. I'm just more of a simple, straight-line driver, just try to be crafty with my dribble and keep it tight.
Without thinking, I grab Al's arm and squeeze it as tightly as I can. I just need something to hold on to. Blood runs down the side of Christina's face and splatters on the ground next to her cheek. This is the first time I have ever prayed for someone to fall unconscious.... Al frees his hand and pulls me tight to his side. I clench my teeth to keep from crying out.
Of all our studies, history is best qualified to reward our research. And when you see that you've got problems, all you have to do is examine the historic method used all over the world by others who have problems similar to yours. And once you see how they got theirs straight, then you know how you can get yours straight.
I think that any time a person comes face-to-face with their own mortality - close enough to Death that they can smell its breath - they have a choice: 1) Fall to pieces; 2) Reassemble yourself and keep walking.
Comfort zones are plush lined coffins. When you stay in your plush lined coffins, you die.
Everyone thinks I am rich, I have a plush office, I make advertisements and travel - but only I know the kinds of problems I face.
I was always the first one to break. I'll admit it. I couldn't keep a straight face.
Dear Baby, I hope someday somebody wants to hold you for 20 minutes straight and that's all they do. They don't pull away. They don't look at your face. They don't try to kiss you. All they do is wrap you up in their arms and hold on tight, without an ounce of selfishness to it.
The solemn pride that must be yours to have laid so costly a sacrifice upon the altar of freedom.
I know I can never work in a comedy because I can't keep a goddamn straight face.
You'd be surprised at how many times I'd hit the ball, and the hair would go straight into my eyes. That's why, even when I play indoors, I wear a visor, because it stops that, and I'll apply a lot of gel and hairspray to keep it tight.
I like sit-ups and ab exercises. I always want to keep my tummy flat and tight, even as I age. It keeps your back healthy and keeps you young.