Cushions 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
and-cushions-set-in-rows-alghashiyah-15
reclining-on-green-cushions-exquisite-carpets-arrahman-76
whether-its-cushions-you-only-use-outside-in-summer-blankets-that-only-come-out-in-winter-youve-always-got-to-think-where-to-store-them-anthea-turner
onion-rings-in-the-car-cushions-do-not-improve-with-time
storage-is-important-whether-its-cushions-you-only-use-outside-in-summer-blankets-that-only-come-out-in-winter-youve-always-got-to-think-where-to-store-them
do-i-look-like-kind-person-who-wastes-time-turning-goats-into-pin-cushions-lj-smith
anyone-who-said-money-didnt-matter-had-never-had-to-count-coins-that-fell-between-cushions-couch-nora-roberts
honest-men-are-soft-easy-cushions-on-which-knaves-repose-fatten-thomas-otway
i-would-rather-save-few-seconds-than-few-cents-i-hope-you-dont-mind-but-im-saving-them-in-your-sofa-cushions-jarod-kintz
sadly-american-teenagers-are-to-weightless-vacuum-as-seat-cushions-are-to-polyurethane-foam-marisha-pessl
i-like-to-personalise-my-dressing-room-have-cover-for-bed-if-it-is-long-run-few-cushions-teapot-little-pot-for-one
hope-patience-are-two-sovereign-remedies-for-all-surest-reposals-softest-cushions-to-lean-on-in-adversity-robert-a-burton
check-couch-cushions-for-change-hope-i-drink-my-coffee-raw-straight-out-ketchup-bottle-jarod-kintz
in-some-churches-today-on-some-religious-television-programs-we-see-attempt-to-make-christianity-popular-pleasant-we-have-taken-cross-away-billy-graham
i-am-determined-that-only-deepest-love-will-induce-me-into-matrimony-so-i-shall-end-old-maid-teach-your-ten-children-to-embroider-cushions-play-jane-austen
how-deep-sticky-is-darkness-childhood-how-rigid-blades-infant-evil-which-is-unadulterated-unrestrained-by-convenient-cushions-age-its-katherine-dunn
i-am-determined-that-only-deepest-love-will-induce-me-into-matrimony-so-i-shall-end-old-maid-teach-your-ten-children-to-embroider-cushions-play-their-instruments-ill-jane-austen
people-search-for-love-as-if-it-were-city-lost-beneath-desert-dunes-where-pleasure-is-law-streets-are-lined-with-brocade-cushions-sun-never-sets-diane-ackerman
he-dropped-back-into-couch-cushions-stroking-condensation-dripping-off-his-glass-youre-in-pickle-you-want-one-her-eyebrows-perked-up-though-her-eyes-werent-tracking-well-i-think-
theres-nothing-more-i-love-than-mcdonalds-dollar-menu-with-just-change-i-find-between-my-couch-cushions-i-can-eat-something-with-nutritional-value-stephen-colbert
i-was-broke-for-more-than-10-years-i-remember-staying-up-all-night-one-night-at-my-first-company-looking-in-couch-cushions-next-morning-for-some-change-to-buy-coffee
tea-would-arrive-cakes-squatting-on-cushions-cream-toast-in-melting-shawl-butter-cups-agleam-faint-wisp-steam-rising-from-teapot-shawl-gerald-durrell
Dear Edmond, While you were sleeping this afternoon, I was busy hustling around town. You see, when I woke up early this morning to clean the apartment for the party tonight, I noticed that all your furniture was missing. And by all, I do mean everything. So I raced around town trying to replace all your pieces. Fortunately, I did manage to pick up some new furniture. It looks exactly like your old furniture, only you're still missing the armoire that your grandmother left you in her will. But the great thing is they have one that looks exactly like your grandmother's armoire at the pawn shop just up the road. But there was some random good news today. In the cushions of the new sofa, the one that looks exactly like your old sofa, I found about $500 dollars. So I took the liberty of loading up the liquor cabinet and buying a keg. But I don't want you to be depressed about your armoire, or worry about paying me back for buying you all new furniture. Just promise me you'll have a good time at the party. And since I know that you are disappointed about having to pick up another armoire at the pawn shop, I won't even make you go half with me on the booze. I wouldn't dream of it. Friends help friends out when they are in need, right? I couldn't possibly accept $250 dollars from you. But I know how you are. You won't accept any gifts, right? You're so freaking stubborn. Well, if you really want to pay me back, you can slip the money in an envelope under my door after the party tonight. We're going to have a crazy night tonight! So cheer up, buddy.

Jarod Kintz
dear-edmond-while-you-were-sleeping-this-afternoon-i-was-busy-hustling-around-town-you-see-when-i-woke-up-early-this-morning-to-clean-apartment-for-party-tonight-i-noticed-that-a
Ah, I believe Schacht. Only too willingly; that's to say, I think what he says is absolutely true, for the world is incomprehensibly crass, tyrannical, moody, and cruel to sickly and sensitive people. Well, Schacht will stay here for the time being. We laughed at him a bit, when he arrived, that can't be helped either, Schacht is young and after all can't be allowed to think there are special degrees, advantages, methods, and considerations for him. He has now had his first disappointment, and I'm convinced that he'll have twenty disappointments, one after the other. Life with its savage laws is in any case for certain people a succession of discouragements and terrifying bad impressions. People like Schacht are born to feel and suffer a continuous sense of aversion. He would like to admit and welcome things, but he just can't. Hardness and lack of compassion strike him with tenfold force, he just feels them more acutely. Poor Schacht. He's a child and he should be able to revel in melodies and bed himself in kind, soft, carefree things. For him there should be secret splashings and birdsong. Pale and delicate evening clouds should waft him away in the kingdom of Ah, What's Happening to Me? His hands are made for light gestures, not for work. Before him breezes should blow, and behind him sweet, friendly voices should be whispering. His eyes should be allowed to remain blissfully closed, and Schacht should be allowed to go quietly to sleep again, after being wakened in the morning in the warm, sensuous cushions. For him there is, at root, no proper activity, for every activity is for him, the way he is, improper, unnatural, and unsuitable. Compared with Schacht I'm the trueblue rawboned laborer. Ah, he'll be crushed, and one day he'll die in a hospital. or he'll perish, ruined in body and soul, inside one of our modern prisons.

Robert Walser
ah-i-believe-schacht-only-too-willingly-thats-to-say-i-think-what-he-says-is-absolutely-true-for-world-is-incomprehensibly-crass-tyrannical-moody-cruel-to-sickly-sensitive-people
What would you like for your own life, Kate, if you could choose?' 'Anything?' 'Of course anything.' 'That's really easy, Aunty Ivy.' 'Go on then.' 'A straw hat... with a bright scarlet ribbon tied around the top and a bow at the back. A tea-dress like girls used to wear, with big red poppies all over the fabric. A pair of flat, white pumps, comfortable but really pretty. A bicycle with a basket on the front. In the basket is a loaf of fresh bread, cheese, fruit oh... and a bottle of sparkly wine, you know, like posh people drink. 'I'm cycling down a lane. There are no lorries or cars or bicycles. No people - just me. The sun is shining through the trees, making patterns on the ground. At the end of the lane is a gate, sort of hidden between the bushes and trees. I stop at the gate, get off the bike and wheel it into the garden. 'In the garden there are flowers of all kinds, especially roses. They're my favourite. I walk down the little path to a cottage. It's not big, just big enough. The front door needs painting and has a little stained glass window at the top. I take the food out of the basket and go through the door. 'Inside, everything is clean, pretty and bright. There are vases of flowers on every surface and it smells sweet, like lemon cake. At the end of the room are French windows. They need painting too, but it doesn't matter. I go through the French windows into a beautiful garden. Even more flowers there... and a veranda. On the veranda is an old rocking chair with patchwork cushions and next to it a little table that has an oriental tablecloth with gold tassels. I put the food on the table and pour the wine into a glass. I'd sit in the rocking chair and close my eyes and think to myself... this is my place.' From A DISH OF STONES

Valentina Hepburn
what-would-you-like-for-your-own-life-kate-if-you-could-choose-anything-of-course-anything-thats-really-easy-aunty-ivy-go-on-then-a-straw-hat-with-bright-scarlet-ribbon-tied-arou
Things I Used to Get Hit For: Talking back. Being smart. Acting stupid. Not listening. Not answering the first time. Not doing what I'm told. Not doing it the second time I'm told. Running, jumping, yelling, laughing, falling down, skipping stairs, lying in the snow, rolling in the grass, playing in the dirt, walking in mud, not wiping my feet, not taking my shoes off. Sliding down the banister, acting like a wild Indian in the hallway. Making a mess and leaving it. Pissing my pants, just a little. Peeing the bed, hardly at all. Sleeping with a butter knife under my pillow. Shitting the bed because I was sick and it just ran out of me, but still my fault because I'm old enough to know better. Saying shit instead of crap or poop or number two. Not knowing better. Knowing something and doing it wrong anyway. Lying. Not confessing the truth even when I don't know it. Telling white lies, even little ones, because fibbing isn't fooling and not the least bit funny. Laughing at anything that's not funny, especially cripples and retards. Covering up my white lies with more lies, black lies. Not coming the exact second I'm called. Getting out of bed too early, sometimes before the birds, and turning on the TV, which is one reason the picture tube died. Wearing out the cheap plastic hole on the channel selector by turning it so fast it sounds like a machine gun. Playing flip-and-catch with the TV's volume button then losing it down the hole next to the radiator pipe. Vomiting. Gagging like I'm going to vomit. Saying puke instead of vomit. Throwing up anyplace but in the toilet or in a designated throw-up bucket. Using scissors on my hair. Cutting Kelly's doll's hair really short. Pinching Kelly. Punching Kelly even though she kicked me first. Tickling her too hard. Taking food without asking. Eating sugar from the sugar bowl. Not sharing. Not remembering to say please and thank you. Mumbling like an idiot. Using the emergency flashlight to read a comic book in bed because batteries don't grow on trees. Splashing in puddles, even the puddles I don't see until it's too late. Giving my mother's good rhinestone earrings to the teacher for Valentine's Day. Splashing in the bathtub and getting the floor wet. Using the good towels. Leaving the good towels on the floor, though sometimes they fall all by themselves. Eating crackers in bed. Staining my shirt, tearing the knee in my pants, ruining my good clothes. Not changing into old clothes that don't fit the minute I get home. Wasting food. Not eating everything on my plate. Hiding lumpy mashed potatoes and butternut squash and rubbery string beans or any food I don't like under the vinyl seat cushions Mom bought for the wooden kitchen chairs. Leaving the butter dish out in summer and ruining the tablecloth. Making bubbles in my milk. Using a straw like a pee shooter. Throwing tooth picks at my sister. Wasting toothpicks and glue making junky little things that no one wants. School papers. Notes from the teacher. Report cards. Whispering in church. Sleeping in church. Notes from the assistant principal. Being late for anything. Walking out of Woolworth's eating a candy bar I didn't pay for. Riding my bike in the street. Leaving my bike out in the rain. Getting my bike stolen while visiting Grandpa Rudy at the hospital because I didn't put a lock on it. Not washing my feet. Spitting. Getting a nosebleed in church. Embarrassing my mother in any way, anywhere, anytime, especially in public. Being a jerk. Acting shy. Being impolite. Forgetting what good manners are for. Being alive in all the wrong places with all the wrong people at all the wrong times.

Bob Thurber
things-i-used-to-get-hit-for-talking-back-being-smart-acting-stupid-not-listening-not-answering-first-time-not-doing-what-im-told-not-doing-it-second-time-im-told-running-jumping
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