Quotes & Sayings About Pistol Pete
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Top Pistol Pete Quotes

Are you angry? Punch a pillow. Was it satisfying? Not hardly. These days people are too angry for punching. What you might try is stabbing. Take an old pillow and lay it on the front lawn. Stab it with a big pointy knife. Again and again and again. Stab hard enough for the point of the knife to go into the ground. Stab until the pillow is gone and you are just stabbing the earth again and again, as if you want to kill it for continuing to spin, as if you are getting revenge for having to live on this planet day after day, alone. — Miranda July

Whenever people ask me, "How are your books doing?" or, "How is your book doing?" I just say, "It's okay." I mean, what am I supposed to say? I'm a writer; that means I write because I need to write, because that's how I breathe and that's how I bleed. I'm not an author; I'm a writer. Even when I don't want to write; I can't stop! So, how are my books doing? The hell I know! The moment after I publish one book, I'm writing another one! I don't know how my books are doing! I just know that I'm writing them! I'm a writer, I'm a writer. I'm not an author. — C. JoyBell C.

If we live in such a way that the considerations of eternity press upon us, we will make better decisions. — Spencer W. Kimball

The second admission my young adult friends made is that they know their obsession is distracting them from God. Again, let me ask you to be honest. Do you think more about what God says in his Word or what people say on your feed? How much time do you think about God versus what to say online? Work hard to tell the truth. No matter how tempting it is to ignore him, if God is trying to get your attention, don't shake him off. — Craig Groeschel

Contempt mates well with pity. — Gloria Naylor

I'm tired of eating your family's lousy, tasteless recipes," Dad said.
"Tasteless recipes? My grandmother's rolling in her grave!"
"It's from indigestion. — Neal Shusterman

Japanese naval officers in dress whites are frequent guests at Pearl Harbor's officers' mess and are very polite. They always were. Except, of course, for that little interval there between 1941 and 1945. — William Manchester

Yeah, that was the goal - to fuck Prophet so hard and well that he slept like a baby. He moved so he was chest to back, thigh to thigh, the contact like a wrestling pose. He bit down on Prophet's neck where it met his shoulder, enough to leave a mark as he entered him. Prophet hissed at the intrusion, but Tom didn't stop. A slow, smooth push through the pain would make Prophet's body yield to him. "Relax, Proph," he said, more of a demand than a request, and the tension in Prophet's shoulders dissipated as Tom held his hips, rocked against him. "Fuck. Fuck," was all Prophet said when Tom didn't give him time to recover. He didn't need it, not the way Tom had opened him, was pressing him, holding him impaled with his cock. "Tommy . . ." That's the way the man should always sound when he says Tommy. Prophet — S.E. Jakes