You Gotta Dance With Them That Brung Quotes & Sayings

A lot of ideas get re-used and made part of new songs if the first version didn't cut the mustard, and the stuff that gets left off usually contained the germ of something good but failed to reach a satisfactory state by the recording stage. — Bent Saether

Excuse me, guess I've mistaken you for somebody else, somebody who gave a damn, somebody more like myself. — Jewel

So wake me up when its all over

-Wake Me Up — Avicii

Lookee here, Pip, at what is said to you by a true friend. Which this to you the true friend say. If you can't get to be on common through going straight, you'll never get to do it through going crooked. So don't tell no more on 'em, Pip, and live well and die happy. — Charles Dickens

The beautiful truth about service is that we are afforded countless opportunities to be its vehicle. Every interaction with another is an opportunity to serve. From simply letting someone into your lane in traffic, to holding a door, to a kind smile. This is all service. I am humbled by this simple truth. We are given the opportunity to express the most meaningful use of our lives every time we interact with another sentient being. — Chris Matakas

I think I'll take a shower, shave, get refreshed."
Domenico gave him a smile and lowered his voice. "Why? Because you still feel me inside?"
Seth bit his lip and started playing with his fingers. "You're always here, inside." Seth pointed to his heart, and it was so sweet, Dom hardly recognize the horny beast behind that facade.
He stared at Seth, unsure how to react to such honesty in reply to his dirty question. — K.A. Merikan

This would be so much easier if they actually issued black hoods, — Rachel Vincent

DEVO was like the punk band that non Punk America saw as Punk and so when people who were really into Punk rock would be walking around on the streets the jocks who learned about Punk through Devo would roll down their windows and yell at the Punks: 'HEY, DEVO!!' — Thurston Moore

The Bible tells us to forgive our enemies, not our friends — Margot Asquith

Werner sleeps in a tiny dormitory with seven other fourteen-year-olds. The bunk above belongs to Frederick: a reedy boy, thin as a blade of grass, skin as pale as cream. Frederick is new too. He's from Berlin. His father is assistant to an ambassador. When Frederick speaks, his attention floats up, as though he's scanning the sky for something. — Anthony Doerr