A Quote by Hayley Williams

Why not stand up, pump your fists in the air, and scream like a maniac? - — © Hayley Williams
Why not stand up, pump your fists in the air, and scream like a maniac? -
You can do all them push-ups to pump up your chest, I got a 12 gauge Mossberg to pump up your chest, Have you gasping for air after that shell hit your vest. Fear me like you fear God, 'cause I bring death.
If your songs connect with the fans and they pump their fists in the air and go "Yeah!!" that's when a song really works. That's the electric church of it. The glory hallelujah of it.
Raise your hands in the air, pump your fists, and solemnly swear to rock the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.
Surely there's a deeper pursuit to music than getting bros to pump their fists in the air.
The greatest feeling you can get in a gym or the most satisfying feeling you can get in the gym is the pump. Let's say you train your biceps, blood is rushing in to your muscles and that's what we call the pump. Your muscles get a really tight feeling like your skin is going to explode any minute and its really tight and its like someone is blowing air into your muscle and it just blows up and it feels different, it feels fantastic.
Not many people understand what a pump is. It must be experienced to be understood. It is the greatest feeling that I get. I search for this pump because it means that that my muscles will grow when I get it. I get a pump when the blood is running into my muscles. They become really tight with blood. Like the skin is going to explode any minute. It's like someone putting air in my muscles. It blows up. It feels fantastic.
Panic. You open your mouth. Open it so wide your jaws creak. You order your lungs to draw air, NOW, you need air, need it NOW. But your airways ignore you. They collapse, tighten, squeeze, and suddenly you're breaithing through a drinking straw. Your mouth closes and your lips purse and all you can manage is a croak. Your hands wriggle and shake. Somewhere a dam has cracked open and a flood of cold sweat spills, drenches your body. You want to scream. You would if you could. Cut you have to breathe to scream. Panic.
That's the real excellent scary part, that feeling, and that feeling won't come if the lady from next door is there and your mom won't ride the ride, because what brings on that feeling most is when your mom rides wedged in tight with you and your brother on nights like this, when your mom will scream the excellent scream, the scream that people you see in snatches on the boardwalk stop and stare for, the scream that stops the ride next door, the scream that tells us to our hearts the bolts have finally broken.
No one can stand up to the extraordinary power of my fists.
I don't know if I would go so far to say that I would punch someone in the face, but I would definitely stand up for my lady. But sometimes it's more attractive to use your words than your fists.
Every time I wake up I have this huge dreadlock in the back, and I don't know why. It's not like I sleep like a maniac or anything. It gets knots out really easy, and it's handy.
I guess I'm a Holy Spirit maniac. I'm not a religious maniac. I love religion, but I don't like it.
Some fast food places, they have that ketchup pump. It's like a keg. They give you the paper shot glass. I always like to hang around there, try and meet the ladies. "Here, I'll pump for you. You come to this Wendy's often? My roommate and I, we got a pony pump back at my dorm. Here's an extra shot "
I think that Ruth Bader Ginsburg needs, like, a pump-up. And I think Jock Jams is a classic pump-up. Like before she starts working, she needs that.
It's much easier to wear a Chairman Mao button and shake your fists in the air and all that, then to actually read the Communist manifesto and things like that and actually become involved in politics.
A book is like a pump. It gives nothing unless first you give to it. You prime a pump with your own water, you work the handle with your own strength. You do this because you expect to get back more than you give.
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