Bus Driver Appreciation Quotes & Sayings

I often think about image, and image is something that - but in truth, the real artistic process, as I've understood it, is 95 percent intuitive, like seat-of-the-pants, at-the-moment decisions that you can't even explain, you know? — George Saunders

I wouldn't be with a man who was scared of me, but I don't think men are scared of me - look at me, I'm tiny. I don't think I'm capable of putting anyone off. I'm a nice girl. — Amy Winehouse

This isn't going to un-fuck itself. — Colson Whitehead

If the Royal Family was going to assassinate someone, they would have gotten rid of me a long time ago. — John Lydon

Is that a bad thing? I asked, not entirely sure how I felt about the situation. Had it been someone other than Paige, I would have thought they were a spoiled brat getting whatever they wanted because they were famous. And it would have annoyed the living shit out of me. But since it was Paige, I didn't feel as irritated. Which made me a hypocritical dick who was okay with double standards. I should make a T-shirt. — J. Sterling

There are few finer or more innocent pleasures than talking books to one who knows. There may be joy in heaven- I am told there is- but the evidence is not conclusive, and I'll take mine here in my library. — A. Edward Newton

For me it's very important to express my thoughts, the pictures I carry inside of me, maybe because it's important to get them out ... — Marilyn Manson

He does not keep company with those who wish to harm him. — Paulo Coelho

When I look at certain aspects of popular culture - not everything because I like a lot of things - sometimes my heart breaks a little bit, just a little bit. I begin to ponder what happened to this generation, I don't know. — Saul Williams

I loved the way his eyes glowed when they looked at me. My piece of Earth.
I kissed it one more time, gently, and let it go. — Heather Heffner

He studied the nail-formation, and prodded the finger-tips, now sharply, and again softly, gauging the nerve-sensations produced. It fascinated him, and he grew suddenly fond of this subtle flesh of his that worked so beautifully and smoothly and delicately. Then he would cast a glance of fear at the wolf-circle drawn expectantly about him, and like a blow the realization would strike him that this wonderful body of his, this living flesh, was no more than so much meat... — Jack London