Blued Quotes & Sayings

I bet you never heard of a playa with no game,
Told the truth to get what I want, but shot it with no shame.
Take this music dead serious while others entertain.
I see they makin' they paper so I guess I can't complain ... or can I?
I feel they disrespectin' the whole thang.
Them hooks like sellin' dope to black folks,
And I choke when the food they serve ain't tastin' right,
My stomach can't digest it even when I bless it ... — Andre Benjamin

For me, film has been good because I'm able to work at top crack, working at something I love to do, in the only literary form in which you can still make money. There are no famous novelists, not as novelists used to be famous. — William Monahan

Tomorrow at the press conference would be dreadful. She would be surrounded by nice young men who spoke Big Business or Computer or Bachelor on the Make, and she would not understand a word they said."
"Short Story: Blued Moon — Connie Willis

Our own lives are the instruments with which we experiment with truth. — Nhat Hanh

The teachers are getting screwed, blued, and tattooed by the system. — Kinky Friedman

Never do anything for anyone who can just as well do it themself — Abraham Lincoln

screwed blued and tattooed — Sherrilyn Kenyon

Some sense of ongoing, of "next," is always with us. But this sense of movement, of happening, Greg lacked; he seemed immured, without knowing it, in a motionless, timeless moment. And whereas for the rest of us the present is given its meaning and depth by the past (hence it becomes the "remembered present," in Gerald Edelman's term), as well as being given potential and tension by the future, for Greg it was flat and (in its meager way) complete. This living-in-the-moment, which was so manifestly pathological, had been perceived in the temple as an achievement of higher consciousness. G — Oliver Sacks

When Shakespeare begins his exposition thus he generally at first makes people talk about the hero, but keeps the hero himself for some time out of sight, so that we await his entrance with curiosity, and sometimes with anxiety. — Andrew Coyle Bradley

Snow fell. Carolers moved among the mansions of Prairie Avenue, pausing now and then to enter the fine houses for hot mulled cider and cocoa. The air was scented with woodsmoke and roasting duck. In Graceland Cemetery, to the north, young couples raced their sleighs over the snow-heaped undulations, pulling their blankets especially tight as they passed the dark and dour tombs of Chicago's richest and most powerful men, the tombs' bleakness made all the more profound by their juxtaposition against the night-blued snow [ ... ]
Outside the snow muffled the concussion of passing horses. Trains bearing fangs of ice tore through the crossing at Wallace. — Erik Larson

We don't have to stop inventing abstract models that describe the behavior of imaginary Econs. We do, however, have to stop assuming that those models are accurate descriptions of behavior, and stop basing policy decisions on such flawed analyses. — Richard H. Thaler

The doctor can X-Ray you and say, 'You got cancer.' And then you go home and God let me see, does Christ have cancer? If Christ don't, I don't have cancer. All I need to do is get a picture of what he looks like. Because, if I can see Him I become like Him. — Eddie Long

I'm afraid I just blued myself. — Tobias Funke

Good evening peepers, prowlers, pederasts, panty-sniffers, punks and pimps. I'm James Ellroy, the demon dog, the foul owl with the death growl, the white knight of the far right, and the slick trick with the donkey dick. I'm the author of 16 books, masterpieces all; they precede all my future masterpieces. These books will leave you reamed, steamed and drycleaned, tie-dyed, swept to the side, true-blued, tattooed and bah fongooed. These are books for the whole fuckin' family, if the name of your family is Manson. — James Ellroy

The room blued into view, and I wondered where the night had gone. — Sylvia Plath

There are some people who don't conform to the signals. An ordinary well-regulated locomotive slows down or pulls up when it sees the red light hoisted against it. Perhaps I was born color blind. When I see the red signal
I can't help forging ahead. And in the end, you know, that spells disaster. — Agatha Christie