A Quote by John Kruk

On this Twitter thing, at least five people a day say 'bring back the mullet.' My wife told me I'm not allowed. Troy Tulowitzki wants me to grow a rat-tail for his charity. I was like, 'What the heck is a rat-tail?'
I had a rat-tail when I was younger. I had this nice Bobby Brown fade, with a rat-tail that was long enough to wrap around my face. I used to chew on the end and bite it.
I went through whole scene kid phase from when I was, like, 12 years old to 15. Black eyeliner - I got gauges, which I definitely regret now - and I had the world's worst haircut: it looked similar to a mullet with a rat's tail, essentially. It was not great.
I dare say it is rather hard to be a rat,” she mused. “Nobody likes you. People jump and run away and scream out: ‘Oh, a horrid rat!’ I shouldn’t like people to scream and jump and say: ‘Oh, a horrid Sara!’ the moment they saw me, and set traps for me, and pretend they were dinner. It’s so different to be a sparrow. But nobody asked this rat if he wanted to be a rat when he was made. Nobody said: ‘Wouldn’t you rather be a sparrow?
People say never work with children and animals. I actually like working with Oliver Bell, and working with a rat really opens possibilities to you because you don't know how it's going to be. It's just a rat, so you can just react to this rat being a rat, if that makes sense.
Like my boy tells me; if it looks like a rat and smells like a rat, by golly, it is a rat.
The people who bind themselves to systems are those who are unable to encompass the whole truth and try to catch it by the tail; a system is like the tail of truth, but truth is like a lizard; it leaves its tail in your fingers and runs away knowing full well that it will grow a new one in a twinkling.
It may be that you will be happiest in the rat race; perhaps, like me, you are basically a rat.
When I was young I had this blonde haircut that was shaved on one side with a rat tail and tram lines in it, but I don't really regret that. It was really elaborate but I was 12 and it looked cool. It was like what people in Iceland do.
A famous actor told me once - I don't want to name names, I hate that sort of thing - but I was at his house and he said, 'Are you on Twitter?' I said, 'Yes, I am.' And he said, 'There'll be one day when you'll have, like, five friends. And in the same day it'll go to five thousand.'
... the most fiendish plant I know of, the sort of thing Beelzebub might pluck to make a bouquet for his mother-in-law ... it looks as if it had been made out of a sow's ear for the spathe, and the tail of a rat that died of Elephantiasis for the spadix. The whole thing is mingling of unwholesome greens, livid purples, and pallid pinks, the livery of putrescence in fact, and it possesses and odour to match the colouring.
It seems that it had been destined before that I should occupy myself so thoroughly with the vulture, for it comes to my mind as a very early memory, when I was still in the cradle, a vulture came down to me, he opened my mouth with his tail and struck me a few times with his tail against my lips.
The rat turned his glowing eyes on him, and Gregor was shocked by what he saw there. The intelligence, the deadliness, and, most surprisingly, the pain. This rat was not like Fangor and Shed. He was much more complicated and much more dangerous. For the first time in the Underland, Gregor felt completely out of his league. If he fought this rat, he wouldn't stand a change. He would lose. He would be dead.
Don't ever forget the words on a postcard that my father sent me last year: "If you win the rat race, you're still a rat.
Your rat tail is all the fashion now. I prefer a bushy plume, carried straight up. You are Siamese and your ancestors lived in trees. Mine lived in palaces. It has been suggested to me that I am a bit of a snob. How true! I prefer to be.
I don't have a mullet, but going into season one on 'The Walking Dead,' I asked to have a mullet, and everybody talked me out of it. Because I'd have to wear a mullet when we were not shooting every day. I have that motorcycle, wings on my vest, the crossbow... Maybe a mullet would've thrown me over the edge.
Ronnie Spector's hair was taller and meaner and scarier than all four Shangri-La's combined, plus the drummer from the Honeycombs. You just know her rat-tail comb was a switchblade.
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