I Smoke To Forget Quotes & Sayings

What is this thing you call substance abuse?
All I wanna do is forget and get loose.
Drinking and smoking over and over
What's so great about a life that's sober?
There's nothing cool about being young
When the monsters of night have stolen the sun.
I'm tired of searching for words in the sky.
All I wanna do is drink and die.
Nothing is real. It's all a big lie.
All I wanna do is drink and die.
There's nothing cool about being young
When the monsters of night have stolen the sun. — Benjamin Alire Saenz

For my days vanish like smoke;
my bones burn like glowing embers.
My heart is blighted and withered like grass;
I forget to eat my food.
In my distress, I groan aloud
and am reduced to skin and bones.
I am like a desert owl,
like an owl among the ruins.
~Psalm 102 NIV Bible — Jessica Fortunato

Forget to smoke and drink alcohol. Start drinking the morning sunshine, pure breeze, and unconditional love. It is a much better way to get drunk. — Debasish Mridha

A meditator cannot smoke, for the simple reason that he never feels nervous, in anxiety, in tension. Smoking helps - on a momentary basis - to forget about your anxieties, your tensions, your nervousness. Other things can do the same - chewing gum can do the same, but smoking does it the best. In your deep unconscious, smoking is related with sucking milk from your mother's breast. And as civilization has grown, no woman wants the child to be brought up by breast-feeding - naturally; he will destroy the breast. The breast will lose its roundness, its beauty. — Rajneesh

You thought I was that type: that you could forget me, and that I'd plead and weep and throw myself under the hooves of a bay mare, or that I'd ask the sorcerers for some magic potion made from roots and send you a terrible gift: my precious perfumed handkerchief. Damn you! I will not grant your cursed soul vicarious tears or a single glance. And I swear to you by the garden of the angels, I swear by the miracle-working ikon, and by the fire and smoke of our nights: I will never come back to you. — Anna Akhmatova

We can talk to one another on telephones
in banks, in cars, in line. No more
sitting on the floor
attached to a cord
while everybody listens.
No more
standing outside the booth
in the cold, fingering
an adulterous dime. We

send each other mail without stamps.
Watch television without antennas.
Wear seatbelts, smoke less, and never
on a bus, never
in the lobby while we're waiting
for the lawyer to call on us.

Nowhere now, a typewriter ribbon.
Quaintly the record album's scratch and spin.
Our groceries, scanned.
Pump our own gas.
Take off our shoes
before boarding our plane.
Those towers: Gone. And Pluto's
no longer a planet:
Forget it.
I could go on

and on, but you're still dead
and nothing's any different. — Laura Kasischke

I must be myself, I said over and over. I must forget these people buzzing inside my head, I must forget their voices, their smells, their demands, their love, their hate, and be myself, I must be myself, I told myself, as i gazed down at the legs resting so happily on the stool, and I told myself again as I looked up to watch the smoke I'd blown up to the ceiling; I must be myself, because if I failed to be myself, I become the person they wanted me to be; if I had to be that insufferable person, I'd rather be nothing at all. It would be better if I didn't exist,... — Orhan Pamuk

What did you put in the fire?" Kaladin said. "To make that special smoke?"
"Nothing. It was just and ordinary fire."
"But, I saw-"
"What you saw belongs to you. A story doesn't live until it is imagined in someone's mind."
"What does the story mean, then?"
"It means what you want it to mean," Hoid said. "The purpose of a storyteller is not to tell you how to think , but to give you questions to think upon. Too often, we forget that. — Brandon Sanderson

Forget your sadness, anger, grudges, and hatred. Let them
pass like smoke caught in the breeze. You should not deviate
from the path of righteousness; you should lead a life worthy
of a man. Don't be possessed by greed, luxury, or your ego.
You should accept sorrows, sadness and hatred as they are,
and consider them a chance for trial given to you by the
powers ... a blessing given by nature. Have both your mind and
your time fully engaged in bud?, and have your mind deeply
set on bujutsu. — Masaaki Hatsumi

I want to strip that underwear off you. I want to lay you flat and bury my head between your thighs and stay there until you forget the name of any other man who's ever gone down on you....I want to kiss you until we both can't breathe...I want to push your gorgeous breasts together and thrust my cock
between them until I come all over them....I want to look down and see your mouth around my dick...I want to turn you upside down and inside out with
wanting me. — Amy Andrews

FORGET THE CHICKEN-NUGGET SMOKE SCREEN. Percy wanted Leo to invent an anti-dream hat. That night he had horrible nightmares. — Rick Riordan

Me like to smoke the bud but my eyes they get all red, my senses get dull and me forget what i said, me find my joint now and me want to take a toke, let take a long hit, hold the smoke untill me choke! — DJ Quik

Never shall I forget the little faces of the children, whose bodies turned into wreaths of smoke beneath a silent blue sky. — Elie Wiesel

Watch what you choose to do. For instance, someone might want you to smoke. Never forget that I told you - don't do it. Say no.That can of beer that somebody wants you to try, don't do it. Don't you ever do it.That drug that someone might want you to use, don't touch it.Stay away from it. It can destroy you. — Gordon B. Hinckley

I drink to remember I smoke to forget / Some things to be proud of, some stuff to regret. — Jake Bugg

She takes another long haul, lets the smoke settle in her lungs
she has heard somewhere that cigarettes are good for grief. One long drag and you forget how to cry. The body too busy dealing with the poison. — Colum McCann

September 11 ... I will never forget feeling scared and vulnerable ... I will never forget feeling the deep sad loss of so many lives ... I will never forget the smell of the smoke that reached across the water and delivered a deep feeling of doom into my gut ... I will never forget feeling the boosted sense of unity and pride ... I will never forget seeing the courageous actions of so many men and women ... I will never forget seeing people of all backgrounds working together in community ... I will never forget seeing what hate can destroy ... I will never forget seeing what love can heal ... — Steve Maraboli

The forty days of the soul begin on the morning after death. That first night, before its forty days begin, the soul lies still against sweated-on pillows and watches the living fold the hands and close the eyes, choke the room with smoke and silence to keep the new soul from the doors and the windows and the cracks in the floor so that it does not run out of the house like a river. The living know that, at daybreak, the soul will leave them and make its way to the places of its past ... and sometimes this journey will carry it so far for so long that it will forget to come back. — Tea Obreht

If you should walk and wind and wander far enough on one of those afternoons in April when smoke goes down instead of up, and nearby things sound far away and far things near, you are more than likely to come at last to the enchanted forest that lies between the Moonstone Mines and Centaurs Mountain. You'll know the woods when you are still a long way off by virtue of a fragrance you can never quite forget and never quite remember. — James Thurber

Lotto couldn't forget his wife, but she existed on a constant, unchanging plane, her rhythms in his bones. At all moments, he could predict where she was. [Now, whipping eggs for an omelet; now, hiking over the crispy fields to the pond for an illicit smoke as she always did in her angry moments.] And Lancelot existed, right now, on a plane where everything he knew and was had been turned inside out, predictability had exploded. He — Lauren Groff

My love and I are inventing a country, which we can already see taking shape, as if wheels were passing through yellow mud. But there is a problem: if we put a river in the country, it will thaw and begin flooding. If we put the river on the border, there will be trouble. If we forget about the river, there will be now way out. There is already a sky over that country, waiting for clouds or smoke. Birds have flown into it, too. Each evening more trees fill with their eyes, and what they see we can never erase. — Larry Levis

She wanted his strong, capable hands on her blody and those soft lips locked with hers. She wanted to be held tight and kissed until she could forget-if only for a few precious minutes-that her life as she knew it had evaporated in a cloud of smoke and flame and violence. — Melissa Cutler

Meditation," said his teacher, "hasn't got a damn thing to do with anything, 'cause all it has to do with is nothing. Nothingness. Okay? It doesn't develop the mind, it dissolves the mind. Self-improvement? Forget it, baby. It erases the self. Throws the ego out on its big brittle ass. What good is it? Good for nothing. Excellent for nothing. Yes, Lord, but when you get down to nothing, you get down to ultimate reality. It's then and exactly then that you're sensing the true nature of the universe, you're linked up with the absolute Absolute, son, and unless you're content with blowing smoke up your butt all your life, that there's the only place to be. — Tom Robbins

My hands trembled, so I took a deep drag to calm my frayed nerves. I just wanted to forget that terrible sight, but questions multiplied in my mind as the smoke furled. — Katherine McIntyre

For Padilla the shared act of smoking was basically a staging of loneliness: the tough guys, the talkers, the quick to forget and the long to remember, lost themselves for an instant, the length of time it took the cigarette to burn, an instant in which time was frozen and yet all times in Spanish history were concentrated, all the cruelty and the broken dreams, and in that "night of the soul" the smokers recognized each other, unsurprised, and embraced. The spirals of smoke were the embrace. — Roberto Bolano

Then take me disappearin' through the smoke rings of my mind,
Down the foggy ruins of time, far past the frozen leaves,
The haunted, frightened trees, out to the windy beach,
Far from the twisted reach of crazy sorrow.
Yes, to dance beneath the diamond sky with one hand waving free,
Silhouetted by the sea, circled by the circus sands,
With all memory and fate driven deep beneath the waves,
Let me forget about today until tomorrow. — Bob Dylan

There was five golden rules. My dad made me write them over and over until I knew them like I knew my own name...

Number five: never have a fire in the daytime, 'cause people could see the smoke and come and get us.

Number four: if I ever see anyone other than my dad, I run, and keep running.

Number three: always say my prayers, so as God don't get mad at me and decide to come make me sick too.

Numer two: never forget to pray for my momma, 'cause she was the best and prettiest lady God ever made.

Number one: never, ever leave the woods. — Jeff Lemire