Road Starving Quotes & Sayings

We wouldnt ever eat anybody, would we?
No. Of course not.
Even if we were starving?
We're starving now.
You said we werent.
I said we werent dying. I didnt say we werent starving.
But we wouldnt.
No. We wouldnt.
No matter what.
No. No matter what.
Because we're the good guys.
Yes.
And we're carrying the fire.
And we're carrying the fire. Yes.
Okay. — Cormac McCarthy

There's probably a little greater case for pessimism than optimism. But I do not rule out optimism. — Jim Leach

When they arrived in full, the noise of their feet throbbed on top of the road. Their eyes were enormous in their starving skulls. And the dirt. The dirt was molded to them ...
Their feet could barely rise above the ground ...
Stars of David were plastered on their shirts, and misery was attached to them as if assigned. "Don't forget your misery ... "
At their side, the soldiers also made their way pat, ordering them to hurry up and stop moaning. Some of the those soldiers were only boys. They had the Fuhrer in their eyes. — Markus Zusak

The longer you hold onto an apology, the harder it is to give. — David Arnold

I think I can say without fear of inaccuracy that description is my strong point. Possibly this fact is central to my feeling excluded and so on in what might be called "the scene." There appears to be a particular divide in literature that has "description" and all it implies, as its focus. Some people hate "fancy writing," and just want to "cut to the chase," and so on. This attitude deeply irritates me. If you can't try and take words to their limit in the field of literature, then where can you? I actually think that variety is good, but it's usually the enemies of "fancy writing" who also seem to deplore variety and believe that there's only one way to write - without adverbs etc. etc. — Quentin S. Crisp

What I want to do is make certain that no one's taxes go up. Let's look at cleaning up the tax code. — Marsha Blackburn

A no-hitter is a freaky thing,' Tweet said. 'Most of the greatest pitchers never pitched one. It's a combination of a lot of little accidents. — Duane Decker

Roger lay in the dust of the road, bruised, filthy, and starving, with a woman trembling and weeping against his chest, now and then giving him a small thump with her fist. He had never felt happier in his life. — Diana Gabaldon

Taxi September along Jessore Road Oxcart skeletons drag charcoal load past watery fields thru rain flood ruts Dung cakes on treetrunks, plastic-roof huts Wet processions Families walk Stunted boys big heads don't talk Look bony skulls & silent round eyes Starving black angels in human disguise. — Allen Ginsberg