Top 373 Tattoos Quotes & Sayings - Page 7

30 years ago in white supremacy, we had a strategy called leaderless resistance. The concept was: stop shaving our heads, stop getting tattoos and instead try to blend in as much as possible. It was a really concerted effort to try and tone down the rhetoric and make it a little more palatable to the mainstream. And it certainly has penetrated the mainstream now. We're seeing people who were supportive of our cause back then also supportive of Donald Trump's cause, certainly with the recent cabinet appointments.

I don't think there are any songs that I've written in the past that I now disagree. It's kind of like tattoos; I would never regret a tattoo, because it was how I felt at that time in my life. I don't think I've ever said anything that I would take back. So far, so good! I would probably change the music, or change how I sing it, maybe do it a little bit cooler, or a bit more grown-up. But I don't think that there are any lyrics that I regret.

I always say your body is the temple of your spirit, why not decorate it? My kids say, no, no, your body is the temple of your spirit, keep it clean. I'm covered in tattoos and I get a tattoo every time I write a book. I get the tattoo from the book.

Likewise the piercing of the body for multiple rings in the ears, in the nose, even in the tongue. Can they possibly think that is beautiful? It is a passing fancy, but its effects can be permanent. Some have gone to such extremes that the ring had to be removed by surgery. The First Presidency and the Quorum of the Twelve have declared that we discourage tattoos and also “the piercing of the body for other than medical purposes.” We do not, however, take any position “on the minimal piercing of the ears by women for one pair of earrings”-one pair only.

Then it’s just Venia, whose skin is so pale her tattoos appear to be leaping off it. Almost rigid with determination, she does my hair and nails and makeup, fingers flying swiftly to compensate for her absent teammates. The whole time, she avoids my gaze. It’s only when Cinna shows up to approve me and dismiss her that she takes my hands, looks me straight in the eye, and says, “We would all like you to know what a…privilege it has been to make you look your best.” Then she hastens from the room.

No one else noticed, or cared. It was just something they did. Taking other people’s livestock. Other people’s lives. She watched the soldiers, hating them. They were different in so many ways, white and black, yellow and brown, skinny, short, tall, small, but they were all the same. Didn’t matter if they wore finger-bone necklaces, or baby teeth on bracelets, or tattoos on their chests to ward off bullets. In the end, they were all mangled with battle scars and their eyes were all dead.

Look at me... look at me... I need the attention, oooh I'm punk rock I got some tattoos, I got some piercings. If I'm gonna get some piercings then I want everyone to see it...I don't need to advertise my punkness. A real punk doesn't need to show off...Its like a Karate man... the Karate man bleed on the inside. A real punk is punk on the inside.

Yes, there are probably too many tattoos. But there are too many bad haircuts, too many bad shoe choices, too many bad jeans.

Advice to rock gods: drugwise, stick to Ibuprofen, decaf lattes, and pale Pilsners ... If your stomach is not a flat slab, please leave your shirt on while performing ... If your girlfriend asks you to choose between her and your music, sell your instruments immediately - especially if you're a drummer ... Finally, go easy on the supermodels, don't forget to tune, and remember: a tiny bit of dry ice and lasers goes a long way. Ditto with tattoos.

Rowdy, hopped-up college kids pass us in an endless, noisy blur like they're being mass produced or squeezed out of a tube - guys skulking in their T-shirts and cargo shorts, girls in low-slung jeans and flip-flops, pimples and breasts and tattoos and lipstick and legs and bra straps, and cigarettes; a colorful, sexy melange. I feel old and tired and I just want to be them again, want to be young and stupid, filled with angst and attitude and unbridled lust. Can I have a do-over, please? I swear to God I'll make a real go of it this time.

There's something really the matter with most people who wear tattoos. There's at least some terrible story. I know from experience that there's always something terribly flawed about people who are tattooed, above some little something that Johnny had done in the Navy, even though that's a bad sign...It's terrible. Psychologically it's crazy. Most people who are tattooed, it's the sign of some feeling of inferiority, they're trying to establish some macho identification for themselves.

You are such a chick." I widened my eyes in mock surprise. "No way. Are you sure?" Sighing again, he rubbed at the tattoos on his wrist. "Mackenzie was right. You aren't slayer material." Before he had time to register my intentions, I threw a punch. My sore, swollen knuckles slammed into his cheekbone, thrusting his head to the side. Pain shot up my arm, but I bit my tongue to stop a moan. "You were saying?" He popped his jaw, rubbed at the reddening skin-and slowly grinned. "Okay, so now I understand why Cole likes you. You're worse than Kat.

I'm just a really normal, sensitive kind of go-about-my business everyday kinda guy. People see the tattoos, and they either read things or they see things and they don't really know that I'm just this guy that gets up and makes coffee in the morning and hangs out with his friends and walks his dog and reads his Bible and goes about his day.