Broken Bag Quotes & Sayings

There is nothing in science which teaches the origin of anything at all. — Lord Kelvin

shortly I should be able to live at peace in my cottage, with all the twenty four hours of the day to myself. Forty-six I am, and never yet had a whole week of leisure. What will 'for ever' feel like, and can I use it all? Please note its address from March onwards - Clouds Hill, Moreton, Dorset - and visit it, sometime, if you still stravage the roads of England in a great car. The cottage has two rooms; one, upstairs, for music (a gramophone and records) and one downstairs for books. There is a bath, in a demi-cupboard. For food one goes a mile, to Bovington (near the Tank Corps Depot) and at sleep-time I take my great sleeping bag, embroidered MEUM, and spread it on what seems the nicest bit of floor. There is a second bag, embroidered TUUM, for guests. The cottage looks simple, outside, and does no hurt to its setting which is twenty miles of broken heath and a river valley filled with rhododendrons run wild. I think everything, inside and outside my place, approaches perfection. — T.E. Lawrence

Listen to me, you broken-fanged, moss-wiped excuse for a back-drafted blood bag! Jenks said, a silver-edged red dust slipping from him. — Kim Harrison

Sometimes all a broken heart needed was a bag of shit and a little fire. — Brittainy C. Cherry

I am interested in shows that are not out-and-out gag fests: you see the truth of a broken heart behind them. That is what life is like: it's really funny, you see funny things as soon as you step out of the room, but underneath that is a whole bag of broken hearts. It's that real pain and that real hilarity that makes life so intriguing. — Tamsin Greig

Ham or roast beef?" he asked.
"Yes," she said, stretching.
He hesitated, then smiled crookedly. "You are a dreamer if you think you get both sandwiches."
"Two?" she yelped. "You mean you only made two sandwiches?"
"Well, after that breakfast . . ." He shrugged.
She looked at him in a silence that was broken by her rumbling stomach. He glanced sideways at her, chuckled, and put two sandwiches in front of her.
"No, you need it more than I do," she said hastily, trying to give the lunch back to him. "You're the one who's doing all the work."
He let her put the sandwiches in front of him. Then he pulled two more sandwiches from the lunch bag and waited. It didn't take two seconds. With an indignant sound she snatched her sandwiches and ignored his laughter. Muttering about men who had been out in the sun too long, she bit into the yeasty bread. — Elizabeth Lowell

Afghan Girl

Ice blue eyes that look to the morning sky as I knit the pieces and remnants of my life. I have No books, no paper, no pencils, and no black boards. I look at the holes in my life as I see the hills of the Appalachians that echo. I think to myself, who will I marry? Is my life-like Pari?

These strings please come together.

Snowflakes give me hope, and my dreams dance all around me. I'll put another log on the fire. I watch the brown paper bag over the broken glass pane letting the cold wind in; I'll take some of these remnants and stuff it.

These strings are come together.

Mama told me that life would be hard. I bartered for flour the other day, and the chickens ain't laying no eggs. I struggle with life and these strings. My hands are worn and tired. Now, I have granny square hands.
I am unclean, unblemished, and finished,

Afghan girl. — Edna Stewart

I know it's not the most important thing for me to win the most Grand Slams and be remembered in this world. I certainly don't have to win little tournaments here, there and everywhere, I don't have to win at all. Although I do want to. — Venus Williams

Success could be defined as the ability to go on persevering even when it seems that there are no possibilities left. Each failure is not truly a failure, just another possibility explored and found wanting. We never truly run out of possibilities for success, just imagination to find them. — Jennifer Megan Varnadore

Stand in nature before anyone else has woken and most people find something to believe in. — Tor Udall

You can't sweep something broken into a bag and call it whole. It takes repair. — Paula Heller Garland

Girl from the fifth floor, who feeds the birds every day, climbs up to the water tank and jumps off.
I see her body on the road below, and feel absolutely nothing. Maybe because I expect her to get up and walk off. In a story, the birds would have joined forces in a show of gratitude and broken her fall, carried her to a faraway land of safety. As it is, they just gurgle foolishly and confer about the no-show of breakfast.
I imagine myself in Pigeon girl's place - a split open bag of skin on tar. — Amruta Patil

It's true, though, others won't understand me. I know that. I'm still an alien in the American Christian subculture.
Each evening I retreat from it, and I go straight to the Gospels.
It's not out of duty that I read about Jesus; it's a respite. — Brant Hansen

There were guns on the coffee table. Like, a lot of them, broken out on cloths, being cleaned, leaned against a nearby chair, where a large equipment bag waited to receive them. Karrin's favorite little Belgian carbine was there, along with what looked like a couple of space guns. "New toys?" I asked.
"I'm a girl, Harry," she said, rather smugly. "I accessorize."
"Is that a bazooka?"
"No," she said. "That is an AT4 rocket launcher. Way better than a bazooka."
"In case we have to hunt dinosaurs?" I asked.
"The right took for the right job," she answered.
"Can I play with it? — Jim Butcher

In my palm I can feel the echo of her pulse, standing in for the absense of mine. — Isaac Marion

That earns him a smack with my book bag.
"Ow." He clutches his arm. "What do you have in there? Books?" A grin snakes across his face. "I like my women feisty."
He adds, "I like my broken. — Julie Anne Peters

The years were never an element, because my parents didn't age, they simply sickened. My father was mean and cocky like Cagney all the way to the dump. Flat on his back, his bones poking this way and that like the corpses in the camps, he still had a fiery eye, as though, but for those two coals, the grate held ash. There's no easy way out of this life, and I do not look forward to the day they put those tubes up my nose, and a catheter shows my pee the way out like some well-trained servant. I saw how my father's body broke his spirit like a match; and I saw how my mother's broken spirit took her body under the way a ship stinks after being disemboweled by an errant bag of ice. — William H Gass

In my new IFC comedy game show, 'Bunk,' we actually use our intern Patrick as a human timer - giving contestants the time it takes for him to wade through a bag of broken glass for a razor blade, to get gum out of his hair, to pick up every strand from a box of spaghetti I spill on the floor, etc, etc. — Kurt Braunohler

Learning how to get along with other people is vital for our own success and happiness. — John Elder Robison

So that's what she was doing with the sports bag. Emptying the flat of pills so that I wouldn't kill myself. I want to laugh. You're so stupid, I want to say. There are kitchen knives, aren't there? Windows that open? Glasses which can be broken? Do you honestly think that by taking away all the pills you will somehow stop me from killing myself?
Then another thought occurs to me. That in her hurt, angry state, Jennah still had the presence of mind to do this. Don't kill yourself, she says to me through the empty drawer. Don't kill yourself over me. — Tabitha Suzuma

As Samantha wrapped the ornament in paper, and placed it in a bag, Mrs. Ryan said, "Hearts are like that spun glass, beautiful and fragile, and easily broken." With a Mona Lisa smile, she turned and left the store. — Tamara Hoffa

I don't know how many busted bones he had, but he felt like a bag full of broken glass when Bren and I went to move him. — Kit Rocha

I'm so dopesick, my tears taste like urine. It's as if the air itself were made of broken glass. I try to stop twitching. To stay still, to stop my very breath, let the pain stay inside. The slightest movement grinds tiny shards into my pores. Breathing is like gulping from a bag of claws. I want to die. Want to pass out. Want to stop ... this ... fucking ... feeling. — Jerry Stahl

Racing up the wide staircase, I barreled through the double doors and smacked right into a brick wall.
Stumbling backward, my arms flailed like a cracked-out crossing guard. My over-packed messenger bag slipped, pulling me to one side. My hair
flew it front of my face, a sheet of auburn that obscured everything as I teetered dangerously.
Oh dear God, I was going down. There was no stopping it. Visions of broken necks danced in my head. This was going to suck so
Something strong and hard went around my waist, stopping my free fall. My bag hit the floor, spilling overpriced books and pens across the shiny
floor. My pens! My glorious pens rolled everywhere. A second later I was pressed against the wall.
The wall was strangely warm.
The wall chuckled.
"Whoa," a deep voice said. "You okay, sweetheart? — J. Lynn

I zipped myself all the way into the sleeping bag of myself, not because I was hurt, and not because I had broken something, but because they were cracking up. — Jonathan Safran Foer

I like the idea of being sort of withdrawn and mysterious, and what can be more mysterious that someone wearing a trash bag, like a dark trash bag, with eye holes that say "nihilism?" You'd be curious. What's underneath that? Is it perfect? Or is it broken? — Eugene Mirman

I've thrown or broken a few clubs in my day. In fact, I guess at one time or another I probably held distance records for every club in the bag. — Tommy Bolt

With stars in her eyes and veils in her hair, with cyclamen and wild violets - what nonsense was he thinking? She was fifty at least: she had eight children. Stepping through fields of flowers and taking to her breast buds that had broken and lambs that had fallen: with the stars in her eyes and the wind in her hair - He took her bag. — Virginia Woolf

He who feels that the vice of avarice has got hold of him, should not wish to observe fasts of supererogation, but to give alms. — Philip Neri