A Quote by Mary Roach

I have a nice little office, with a nice little window in it, but I do basically spend huge amounts of time in what you could consider solitary confinement. — © Mary Roach
I have a nice little office, with a nice little window in it, but I do basically spend huge amounts of time in what you could consider solitary confinement.
Solitary confinement has been used extensively, it always has. I was in prison for 44 years; it was a normal part of life - the practice of it. They put you in solitary confinement for disciplinary reasons, they put you in solitary confinement to protect you from violence or whatever, and they also put you in solitary confinement just to show you who has got the power ... It's not something new; it's just something that nobody really cared about in the past.
I don't spend a lot of time online. My mother's really good at picking out if she sees a really great review, and she'll forward it to me. She's like my little Internet filter. It's always nice to see something going up; if I want to find something on Nathan Fillion, I do know where to look, but I've got a nice little delivery system in my mom.
Sometimes in a restaurant you'll see a lady dressed very nice, she picks up a menu or something... a little fan is always a little bit nice.
The only difference between me and others is that they think they can change something with cute little poems, nice cards or embracing trees and being nice to little lapdogs.
I did a lot of research on what solitary confinement does to you, how you become acclimated to being surrounded by people again after being by yourself for such a long time. It's really a horrific thing. It's definitely worth considering it as torture. We're just not meant to be in solitary confinement.
Seriously, you don't have to know English. It'd be nice, a nice little plus. We don't want miracles. You don't have to know the country's language. But just some shapes, that's all. A square. A little geometry.
Because Buffy really has become the straight man, every once in a while it's nice to be the one that tells the joke and it's nice to be the one that is the joke and it's nice to do something that's a little bit different.
People are surprised that I'm nice and it helps me out a little bit; it's easy to be nice when everyone thinks you're going to be a jerk but if people think you're a nice guy then it's tough because it's what they expect.
Well, now, some people learn a little quicker than others. It's nice to learn fast but it's nice to take your time too.
My father had taught me to be nice first, because you can always be mean later, but once you've been mean to someone, they won't believe the nice anymore. So be nice, be nice, until it's time to stop being nice, then destroy them.
I go back to things all the time. It's really nice, too, like when I'm going through some kind of a writer's block, and I'm feeling uninspired, I go to some of my oldest songs from over the years and sift through them, and one thing that's very nice is to see how I've grown up a little bit. A little bit.
When I went to work in a studio, I took my pride and made a nice little ball of it and threw it right out the window.
A lot of the things I do outside the rink are just to relax and recover. We spend so much time at the rink, so it's nice to decompress a little.
Some rules are good. For example, off the top of my head, let's say a stand-up comedian or a talk show host wearing a nice suit - as a ponderer, I grew up like, "Why don't they just go up there in their army jacket? They're fine!" Then little by little, you think, "You know, it's kind of nice to look nice, like you made the effort." Then you're back at rule one; that was the original rule.
People can't bear the idea that I could be sexual and provocative, and still be a nice person with a nice family and a nice husband, and have a career that could work, and be paid a certain amount of money.
Once upon a time, there was a little creature that was rather small and rather wicked and it lived all alone in the woods. The little creature lived in a little den, at the bottom of a little ravine, filled with not-at-all little brambles and on the edge of a forest that could only be described as really freakin' huge.
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