Striation Muscle Quotes & Sayings

I'd like to destroy you a few times in bed. — Ernest Hemingway,

I listened to my first comedy album in 6th grade. It was Bill Cosby. My brother and I would play it over and over on a Fisher Price record player. A friend in high school also introduced me to Richard Pryor. I wasn't writing material back then, but I would say funny stuff. I was good at making fun of people's moms. If I knew something personal about you, it would be used against you. — Felipe Esparza

I vent through my music. That's the only outlet I have. — Kevin Gates

You're inches away from death every time you go on a mission. How much older can you be at your age? — Joseph Heller

The fly runs toward the fire or lamp, thinking that it is a flower, and gets burnt up. Even so, the passionate man runs towards a false beautiful form, thinking that he can obtain real happiness, and gets burnt up in the fire of lust. — Bill Vaughan

The sage does not become trapped in semantics, does not mistake map for territory, but rather "opens things up to the light of Heaven" by flowing with the words, by playing with the words. Once attuned to this flow, the sage need make no special effort to "illumine," for language does it by itself, spontaneously. Language spills over. — Hakim Bey

The three-part whats to winning:
1. What you have.
2. What you need.
3. What you believe. — Johnnie Dent Jr.

One of the great weaknesses of the progressive, as distinct from the religious, mind, is that it has no awareness of truth as such; only of truth in terms of enlightened expediency. The contrast is well exemplified in two exact contemporaries Simone Weil and Simone de Beauvoir; both highly intelligent and earnestly disposed. In all the fearful moral dilemmas of our time, Simone Weil never once went astray, whereas Simone de Beauvoir, with I am sure the best of intentions, has found herself aligned with apologists for some of the most monstrous barbarities and falsehoods of history. — Malcolm Muggeridge

And the trees were so glad to have the children back again that they had covered themselves with blossoms, and were waving their arms gently above the children's heads. — Oscar Wilde