Squishies Jumbo Quotes & Sayings

I'm a dad and a husband, and so the things that I love to do are all geared around my family. — Pablo Schreiber

To Jim Duggan, taking a shower is a high risk maneuver. — Bobby Heenan

It was ... it was like all the girls I was with. They were fun, and I liked their company, but their touch didn't ... didn't make anything get warm. Didn't make it pop or zing or ache." The hand moved up to Talker's neck, so that his pulse throbbed against Brian's palm. "Didn't make me feel any of the things I feel when you touch me or smile or ... you know, sing in the shower or leave your shoes in the hallway or have conversations with the rat when you think I can't hear you. — Amy Lane

When I was younger, I just thought about playing in the NBA. — Derrick Rose

But I was beginning to intuit that full-blown maturity was not so very different from childhood. Both states in their extreme were all about following the rules. — Lionel Shriver

Yr/ humanity counterfeit
yr/ liberty cankered with simulation
— Ezra Pound

That's why people take vacations. No to relax or find excitement or see new places. To escape the death that exists in routine things. — Don DeLillo

Combing my hair doesn't make me a better musician. — Ritchie Blackmore

The divine love of God turns ordinary acts into extraordinary service. — Dieter F. Uchtdorf

Stacey: "I'm surprised you haven't thrown me out."
Comfort: "At your current weight, I'd need some sort of catapult. — Kristin Hannah

And there's no such thing as too much back-up. — Stephen Baxter

One of the two owners, the man who had been sitting in the front room, was stretched out in there asleep, stockinged-toes pointed at the ceiling, one hand backed defensively against his eyes to ward off the light. He'd taken off his vest and shoes, and that strap that wasn't straight enough to be a suspender-strap was dangling now around one of the knobs at the foot of the bed. It ended in a holster, with a black, cross-grained slab of metal protruding from it. Turner couldn't take his eyes off it, while the long seconds that to him were minutes toiled by.
That meant out, that black slab, more surely than any door. He had to have it. More than that, it meant a continuance of out, for so long as he had it. And he wanted out with all the desperate longing of all trapped things, blindly scratching, clawing their way through a maze to the open. To the open where the equal chance is. — Cornell Woolrich