Chalkboard Quotes

Authors: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Categories: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
i-cant-stand-sound-fingernails-on-chalkboard-hugh-jackman
my-fingernail-claw-will-make-your-chalkboard-sing
in-our-society-sound-men-complaining-is-like-nails-on-chalkboard-warren-farrell
i-am-not-just-another-notch-on-your-belt-she-asked-him-of-course-not-he-said-as-he-put-mark-on-chalkboard-jay-leno
a-community-chalkboard-is-about-knowing-youre-not-alone-its-about-understanding-our-neighbors-in-new-enlightening-ways-candy-chang
then-there-was-your-voice-like-windup-tin-toy-like-sweetest-nails-on-chalkboard-that-i-ever-heard-michelle-dalton
everyday-begins-like-blank-chalkboard-on-which-each-one-us-can-write-poem-our-present-our-dreams-for-future-ricky-martin
ive-always-felt-like-beastie-boys-were-three-gilbert-gottfrieds-screeching-at-me-i-prefer-fingernails-scratching-on-chalkboard-jarod-kintz
i-found-college-awkward-another-teacher-same-old-chalkboard-i-felt-i-was-shifting-backward-when-i-expected-to-shoot-forward-mc-paul-barman
just-as-chalk-can-be-removed-from-chalkboard-with-sincere-repentance-effects-our-transgression-can-be-erased-through-atonement-jesus-christ-boyd-k-packer
i-was-doing-standup-at-restaurant-there-was-chalkboard-on-street-out-front-it-said-soup-day-cream-asparagus-ellen-degeneres-ellen-degeneres
dont-use-this-day-as-chalkboard-on-which-to-scratch-your-fears-worries-use-it-as-canvas-where-you-can-splash-your-hopes-most-outrageous-dreams-jim-mcharg
v-had-passing-thought-that-she-used-word-anyway-like-eraser-on-crowded-chalkboard-she-said-it-whenever-she-needed-to-clear-off-things-shed-just-shared-to-make-room-for-more-jr-wa
i-hardly-ever-watch-my-own-work-i-just-end-up-picking-myself-apart-i-cant-even-stand-to-hear-myself-on-voicemail-sound-my-own-voice-is-like-nails-on-grey-delisle
even-though-i-created-eat-bubblegum-dance-i-cant-actually-perform-it-because-my-belly-doesnt-bulge-out-far-enough-when-i-make-love-it-sounds-like-im-chewing-on-chalkboard-jarod-k
to-take-on-jobs-tomorrow-students-must-become-more-than-good-test-takers-they-need-to-become-makers-who-design-sketch-build-prototype-and-their-classrooms-will-need-more-than-cha
my-voice-went-recently-never-happened-before-off-like-tap-i-had-to-sit-in-silence-for-nine-days-chalkboard-around-my-neck-like-oldschool-mime-like-adele
a-vision-flashed-across-nicks-mind-it-was-image-lipstick-kiss-his-wife-left-for-him-on-mirror-that-morning-it-hung-there-like-single-digit-sum-to-chalkboardcrammed-equation-his-l
by-way-im-not-just-one-man-with-chalkboard-im-one-man-with-four-chalkboards-glenn-beck
As I became older, I was given many masks to wear. I could be a laborer laying railroad tracks across the continent, with long hair in a queue to be pulled by pranksters; a gardener trimming the shrubs while secretly planting a bomb; a saboteur before the day of infamy at Pearl Harbor, signaling the Imperial Fleet; a kamikaze pilot donning his headband somberly, screaming 'Banzai' on my way to my death; a peasant with a broad-brimmed straw hat in a rice paddy on the other side of the world, stooped over to toil in the water; an obedient servant in the parlor, a houseboy too dignified for my own good; a washerman in the basement laundry, removing stains using an ancient secret; a tyrant intent on imposing my despotism on the democratic world, opposed by the free and the brave; a party cadre alongside many others, all of us clad in coordinated Mao jackets; a sniper camouflaged in the trees of the jungle, training my gunsights on G.I. Joe; a child running with a body burning from napalm, captured in an unforgettable photo; an enemy shot in the head or slaughtered by the villageful; one of the grooms in a mass wedding of couples, having met my mate the day before through our cult leader; an orphan in the last airlift out of a collapsed capital, ready to be adopted into the good life; a black belt martial artist breaking cinderblocks with his head, in an advertisement for Ginsu brand knives with the slogan 'but wait-there's more' as the commercial segued to show another free gift; a chef serving up dog stew, a trick on the unsuspecting diner; a bad driver swerving into the next lane, exactly as could be expected; a horny exchange student here for a year, eager to date the blonde cheerleader; a tourist visiting, clicking away with his camera, posing my family in front of the monuments and statues; a ping pong champion, wearing white tube socks pulled up too high and batting the ball with a wicked spin; a violin prodigy impressing the audience at Carnegie Hall, before taking a polite bow; a teen computer scientist, ready to make millions on an initial public offering before the company stock crashes; a gangster in sunglasses and a tight suit, embroiled in a turf war with the Sicilian mob; an urban greengrocer selling lunch by the pound, rudely returning change over the counter to the black patrons; a businessman with a briefcase of cash bribing a congressman, a corrupting influence on the electoral process; a salaryman on my way to work, crammed into the commuter train and loyal to the company; a shady doctor, trained in a foreign tradition with anatomical diagrams of the human body mapping the flow of life energy through a multitude of colored points; a calculus graduate student with thick glasses and a bad haircut, serving as a teaching assistant with an incomprehensible accent, scribbling on the chalkboard; an automobile enthusiast who customizes an imported car with a supercharged engine and Japanese decals in the rear window, cruising the boulevard looking for a drag race; a illegal alien crowded into the cargo hold of a smuggler's ship, defying death only to crowd into a New York City tenement and work as a slave in a sweatshop. My mother and my girl cousins were Madame Butterfly from the mail order bride catalog, dying in their service to the masculinity of the West, and the dragon lady in a kimono, taking vengeance for her sisters. They became the television newscaster, look-alikes with their flawlessly permed hair. Through these indelible images, I grew up. But when I looked in the mirror, I could not believe my own reflection because it was not like what I saw around me. Over the years, the world opened up. It has become a dizzying kaleidoscope of cultural fragments, arranged and rearranged without plan or order.

Frank H. Wu
as-i-became-older-i-was-given-many-masks-to-wear-i-could-be-laborer-laying-railroad-tracks-across-continent-with-long-hair-in-queue-to-be-pulled-by-pranksters-gardener-trimming-s
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