Dierks Bentley Living Quotes & Sayings

We will never disarm any American who seeks to protect his or her family from fear and harm. — Ronald Reagan

I'm not homosexual, I'm not hetrosexual, I'm just sexual. — Michael Stipe

Robert, I'm sorry that you feel so strange, but I'm not sorry that you're feeling it because of me," I whispered, my heart feeling a familiar twinge as I continued, "but even if you hadn't felt it, it would not change the way I feel about you. — S.L. Naeole

I stood up. Can a man stand alone, naked, and at his ease, wrist flexed at his side like Michelangelo's David, without assistance, without diversion, without drink, without friends, without a woman, in silence? Yes. It was possible to stand. Nothing happened. I listened. There was no sound: no boats on the river, no trucks on the road, not even cicadas. What if I didn't listen to the news? I didn't. Nothing happened. I realized I had been afraid of silence. — Walker Percy

Our culture takes us out of the body and sells our loyalty into political systems, into religions, into inanimate objects and machines, collections, so forth and so on. The felt experience of the body is what the psychedelics are handing back to us. — Terence McKenna

I think I need to film something tropical on a beach in a bar. — Richard Madden

Come to think, perhaps being nearly killed wasn't always a misfortune-so long as you didn't actually die of it. — Diana Gabaldon

I think we live in a culture that relentlessly pursues comfort. Ease is related to disease. We shouldn't always be fleeing hardship. Hardship also brings people together. We should welcome it. — Dan Buettner

Don't tell your secrets to anyone/
Because ideas are vulnerable/
As soon as you say your idea out loud/
Then it can go and live on its own/
And you will miss it oh so much/
And you will wait for its return/
And you will wish it were your own/
But ideas that left never come back home. — Regina Spektor

I found I was repeating myself. It is the beginning of the end when you discover you have style. — Dashiell Hammett

In the mist, in the darkness of the forest, in the dewdrops on the spruce needles. In the whales that swam in the sea, in the heart beating in my breast. Mist, heart, blood, trees. Why were they so appealing? What was it that enticed me with such power? That filled me with such enormous desire? Mist, heart, blood, trees. Oh, if only I could write about them, no, not write about them but make my writing be them, then I would be happy. Then I would have peace of mind. — Karl Ove Knausgard