Grumbly Intestines Quotes & Sayings

For someone who likes tattoos, the most precious thing is bare skin. — Cher

He saw her right after the seventh-period bell rang. She seemed dressed for the sole purpose of blending in with the lockers, but she stood out, anyway. It didn't matter that her wide blue eyes were narrowed or that her pretty mouth was twisted into a near snarl - she was blatantly beautiful. It was kind of sick the way Ed was preoccupied with beautiful girls these days.
He felt a little sorry for her. (He was also preoccupied with finding ways of feeling sorry for people.) She was new and trying hard not to look it. She was confused and trying to look tough. It was endearing is what it was. — Francine Pascal

I wish I were kind of normal. It would be so much more simple. — Caitlyn Jenner

Martial arts are a vehicle for developing your human potential. — Joe Rogan

Conscience, the organ of feeling which dominates us and of the opinions which rule us, is presumptuous in the strong, timid in the weak and unfortunate, uneasy in the undecided. — Luc De Clapiers

Slightest accidents open up new worlds. — Jeanette Winterson

I wanted to say, Who am I to do this, a woman? But that voice was not mine. It was Father's voice. It was Thomas'. It belonged to Israel, to Catherine, and to Mother. It belonged to the church in Charleston and the Quakers in Philadelphia. It would not, if I could help it, belong to me. — Sue Monk Kidd

Behind my work was ambition, behind my love was personality, behind my purity was fear, behind my guidance the thirst for power. Now they are vanishing and I drift. I come, Mother, I come, in Thy warm bosom, floating wheresoever Thou takest me, in the voiceless, in the strange, in the wonderland, I come - a spectator, no more an actor. — Swami Vivekananda

My father never ran for office or supported anybody for office, and was not engaged in that at all. But I think people throughout the area were just in a constant state of tension - I mean, adults. — Jeff Sessions

While public funds evaporate in feasts of fraternity, a bell of rosy fire rings in the clouds. — Arthur Rimbaud