Spat 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
youre-not-interesting-in-least-she-spat-i-dont-need-to-be-i-smiled-thats-what-you-need-and-youre-welcome-to-it-donna-lynn-hope
never-he-spat-out-kick-man-who-is-pointing-gun-at-you-julia-quinn
he-was-his-own-leftover-spatout-scrag-he-was-what-his-brain-could-make-nothing-ted-hughes
whats-bravest-thing-you-ever-did-he-spat-in-road-bloody-phlegm-getting-up-this-morning-he-said-cormac-mccarthy
i-had-crush-on-percy-nico-spat-thats-truth-thats-big-secret-rick-riordan
i-could-be-walking-down-street-one-minute-get-handshake-then-get-spat-on-next-im-never-sure-whether-to-wear-gloves-helmet
you-idiot-she-spat-flattening-her-ears-what-are-you-doing-in-my-territory-drowning-replied-graystripe-erin-hunter
i-have-no-apologies-no-regrets-i-gave-my-best-efforts-ive-been-hung-in-effigy-ive-been-spat-upon-you-just-have-to-let-those-things-bounce-off-william-westmoreland
some-were-scattered-about-ring-one-two-went-in-sawdust-tub-one-i-spat-out-as-i-fell-i-am-thundering-sure-i-swallowed-couple-johnny-basham
ive-seen-beautiful-actresses-get-spat-at-just-someone-trying-to-get-rise-out-them-they-can-get-extra-hundred-bucks-for-photo-its-really-rough-james-mcavoy
the-auteurs-have-become-luke-haines-i-ate-their-bodies-spat-out-pips-sucked-up-their-souls-luke-haines
if-something-happened-to-gillian-id-rip-world-down-to-save-her-even-if-she-spat-in-my-face-when-i-did-thats-what-parenthood-means-seanan-mcguire
take-what-oldchurchfound-in-mithras-tombcandle-script-belltake-what-newchurch-spat-uponand-broke-shattered-hilda-doolittle
a-lot-my-friends-were-gay-i-was-spat-on-on-bus-daily-i-ended-up-in-hospital-couple-times-from-being-beaten-up-badly
stefan-spat-oh-aye-he-fell-o-course-master-ralon-helped-him-fall-several-times-poor-lil-tyke-didnt-have-chance-tamora-pierce
were-all-bits-that-war-didnt-take-flinty-thought-gazing-at-strangers-back-but-those-left-behind-had-right-to-know-more-about-beast-whod-chewed-their-lives-spat-remnants-out-jacki
weve-had-drive-by-shootings-ive-been-spat-on-slapped-shot-at-one-guy-tried-to-stab-me-with-broken-beer-bottle-but-way-we-look-at-it-if-people-do-worst-they-can-well-still-wake-up
i-denied-discordia-regret-nothing-i-have-spat-into-bodiless-eyes-crimson-king-rejoice-i-threw-my-lot-with-gunslinger-white-never-once-questioned-choice-stephen-king
the-fact-that-i-was-black-desirous-to-do-my-work-other-kids-would-call-me-coconut-as-if-i-were-somehow-attempting-to-be-white-the-bullying-was-real-id-get-punched-spat-at-terribl
choose-now-he-spat-his-eyes-practically-shooing-sparks-me-him-goshfang-you-romantic-fool-i-said-sarcasticallyhoww-incredibly-sexist-pig-you-james-patterson
cath-shook-her-head-now-is-all-you-get-she-spat-out-wishing-she-could-make-more-sense-wishing-for-more-words-better-ones-now-is-all-you-ever-get-rainbow-rowell
that-damon-matthews-linda-spat-you-know-take-one-letter-out-his-name-it-spells-damn-as-in-damn-that-kids-worthless-sonovabitch-kristen-ashley
hes-stubborn-tux-warned-in-singsong-tone-stay-out-this-mark-spat-and-touchy-tux-added-brandon-mull
when-he-had-thus-spoken-he-spat-on-the-ground-and-made-clay-of-the-spittle-and-he-anointed-the-eyes-of-the-blind-man-with-the-clay
karakarof-spat-onto-ground-at-dumbledores-feet-in-one-swift-movement-hagrid-seized-front-karkaroffs-furs-lifted-him-into-air-slammed-him-against-nearby-tree-jk-rowling
people-think-your-success-is-just-matter-having-pretty-face-but-its-easy-to-be-chewed-up-spat-out-youve-got-to-stay-ahead-game-to-be-able-to-kate-moss
they-pay-thousands-thousands-for-van-goghs-modiglianis-theyd-have-spat-on-at-time-they-were-painted-guffawed-at-made-coarse-jokes-about-john-fowles
a-happy-clown-inside-spat-out-piginblanket-yelled-at-cute-waitress-holding-tray-i-had-to-throw-up-but-other-than-bankers-suit-forcing-its-way-onto-elises-face-there-really-wasnt-
a-voice-is-voice-if-universe-wants-your-voice-is-ready-your-shit-will-be-sucked-up-and-spat-out-as-fame-whats-feeling-dunno-must-be-good-though-as-all-us-practical-dreamers-dream
oh-cmon-pretty-girl-i-like-it-when-ya-scream-the-leader-breathed-into-my-ear-i-spat-as-good-as-i-could-on-his-hand-he-jumped-back-glaring-i-said-funny-you-like-it-when-i-scream-y
holy-cow-shed-just-slept-with-hottest-guy-in-universe-she-super-science-geek-the-yougogirl-side-her-brain-wahooed-the-rational-side-her-brain-spat-out-resounding-oh-shit-zoe-forw
The world is changing, I said. It is no longer a world just for boys and men. Our women are respected here, said the father. We would never let them tramp the world as American women do. There is always someone to look after the Olinka woman. A father. An uncle. A brother or nephew. Do not be offended, Sister Nettie, but our people pity women such as you who are cast out, we know not from where, into a world unknown to you, where you must struggle all alone, for yourself. So I am an object of pity and contempt, I thought, to men and women alike. Furthermore, said Tashi's father, we are not simpletons. We understand that there are places in the world where women live differently from the way our women do, but we do not approve of this different way for our children. But life is changing, even in Olinka, I said. We are here. He spat on the ground. What are you? Three grownups and two children. In the rainy season some of you will probably die. You people do not last long in our climate. If you do not die, you will be weakened by illness. Oh, yes. We have seen it all before. You Christians come here, try hard to change us, get sick and go back to England, or wherever you come from. Only the trader on the coast remains, and even he is not the same white man, year in and year out. We know because we send him women. Tashi is very intelligent, I said. She could be a teacher. A nurse. She could help the people in the village. There is no place here for a woman to do those things, he said. Then we should leave, I said. Sister Corrine and I. No, no, he said. Teach only the boys? I asked. Yes, he said, as if my question was agreement. There is a way that the men speak to women that reminds me too much of Pa. They listen just long enough to issue instructions. They don't even look at women when women are speaking. They look at the ground and bend their heads toward the ground. The women also do not 'look in a man's face' as they say. To 'look in a man's face' is a brazen thing to do. They look instead at his feet or his knees.

Alice Walker
the-world-is-changing-i-said-it-is-no-longer-world-just-for-boys-men-our-women-are-respected-here-said-father-we-would-never-let-them-tramp-world-as-american-women-do-there-is-al
The evening was a string of miserable minutes strung together in tiny clusters. Three minutes for a man shot through the shoulder; Ellis put first a finger in the entry wound and then another in the exit and when his fingers touched, he decided the man was only lightly injured and didn't need a surgeon. Three minutes to set a broken wrist and splint it with a strip of cowhide and a piece of wood from a sycamore tree. Two minutes to tourniquet a leg, then extract a piece of wire deep in the meat of it. A minute to peek under a pink, saturated bandage several inches below a slender belly button; he saw thin, red water leaking from a hole and smelled urine, knew the ball had breached the bladder. It would either heal or it wouldn't, but nothing to do about it so he set the soul aside, a case not to be operated upon. He turned a man's head looking for the source of a trickle of blood and had ten terrible minutes trying to stop torrential bleeding from under his clavicle; frantic moments during which he could get neither a finger nor a clamp around the pulsating source. All bleeding stops eventually though, and the case did not violate the rule. He took two minutes to settle his own breathing, then four minutes sewing a torn scalp, and half a minute saying a prayer over a fat, cigar-shaped dead man. After awhile, he had the impression he wasn't seeing men, but parts-an exploded chest, a blood swolled thigh, a busted jaw with its teeth spat to the wind or swallowed. It was more than a man could take and a lot less than there was to be seen.

Edison McDaniels
the-evening-was-string-miserable-minutes-strung-together-in-tiny-clusters-three-minutes-for-man-shot-through-shoulder-ellis-put-first-finger-in-entry-wound-then-another-in-exit-w
I told my homies that I wouldn't spit on this but my friends at all hip hop . com said to hit so I figured I would get it kill it download it take a shit on it like that one bitch I figures that amber scam excuse me I'm silly for really my city they feel me bitches dig me they know I'm the truth we smoke weed and laugh at you so fly wrote this rap attached to a parachute look up to the sky bracelet fly it's when it's spat at you I'm a big deal spitta put ya girl in his videos and drop her like jay did a mil how many bars will I give niggas they listenin at attention like I know curren$y gon diss homie on this one I'll show you something different I'm a show you why they call me spit vicious how many killa bars can I give you a minute pass tipsy I'm pissy just stuck in the bizzy I wanna walk around but I'm picturing myself slippin and fallin on the ground so I just play the couch tell my bitch to bring them zig zagz out and fill em in the middle with sticky piff and security ain't even trippin they just glad to have us in the building we happy to be in it to because we got these bitches we posin for these pictures grabbin ass and signing titties and evry where I'm gon the same question spitta why them niggas scared to see you on they know I'm a sell
I'm still here won't quit til I get my fair share shoe closet full of oxygen I rock a lota airs bought a Jordan double pack and threw away the new apparel spitta lay it back like the hair of a vintage billd d willy and court with the entire castle my cousin vinny I broke up with tiffany now she lonely feelin unpretty she say she to depressed to eat she bone and getting skinny I got no pity for these skeezers ride a Bentley many features walk with me on many features I don't fuck with many people in the game I gotta grudge for when they was all sleepin on me main and now I gotta buzz like lightyear and you niggas into now I'm in the record label offices right now they offerin me a milliiiiiiiiiii*

Curren$y
i-told-my-homies-that-i-wouldnt-spit-on-this-but-my-friends-at-all-hip-hop-com-said-to-hit-i-figured-i-would-get-it-kill-it-download-it-take-shit-curreny
We are all poor; but there is a difference between what Mrs. Spark intends by speaking of 'slender means', and what Stevens called our poverty or Sartre our need, besoin. The poet finds his brief, fortuitous concords, it is true: not merely 'what will suffice, ' but 'the freshness of transformation, ' the 'reality of decreation, ' the 'gaiety of language.' The novelist accepts need, the difficulty of relating one's fictions to what one knows about the nature of reality, as his donnee. It is because no one has said more about this situation, or given such an idea of its complexity, that I want to devote most of this talk to Sartre and the most relevant of his novels, La Nausee. As things go now it isn't of course very modern; Robbe-Grillet treats it with amused reverence as a valuable antique. But it will still serve for my purposes. This book is doubtless very well known to you; I can't undertake to tell you much about it, especially as it has often been regarded as standing in an unusually close relation to a body of philosophy which I am incompetent to expound. Perhaps you will be charitable if I explain that I shall be using it and other works of Sartre merely as examples. What I have to do is simply to show that La Nausee represents, in the work of one extremely important and representative figure, a kind of crisis in the relation between fiction and reality, the tension or dissonance between paradigmatic form and contingent reality. That the mood of Sartre has sometimes been appropriate to the modern demythologized apocalypse is something I shall take for granted; his is a philosophy of crisis, but his world has no beginning and no end. The absurd dishonesty of all prefabricated patterns is cardinal to his beliefs; to cover reality over with eidetic images-illusions persisting from past acts of perception, as some abnormal children 'see' the page or object that is no longer before them -to do this is to sink into mauvaise foi. This expression covers all comfortable denials of the undeniable-freedom -by myths of necessity, nature, or things as they are. Are all the paradigms of fiction eidetic? Is the unavoidable, insidious, comfortable enemy of all novelists mauvaise foi? Sartre has recently, in his first instalment of autobiography, talked with extraordinary vivacity about the roleplaying of his youth, of the falsities imposed upon him by the fictive power of words. At the beginning of the Great War he began a novel about a French private who captured the Kaiser, defeated him in single combat, and so ended the war and recovered Alsace. But everything went wrong. The Kaiser, hissed by the poilus, no match for the superbly fit Private Perrin, spat upon and insulted, became 'somehow heroic.' Worse still, the peace, which should instantly have followed in the real world if this fiction had a genuine correspondence with reality, failed to occur. 'I very nearly renounced literature, ' says Sartre. Roquentin, in a subtler but basically similar situation, has the same reaction. Later Sartre would find again that the hero, however assiduously you use the pitchfork, will recur, and that gaps, less gross perhaps, between fiction and reality will open in the most close-knit pattern of words. Again, the young Sartre would sometimes, when most identified with his friends at the lycee, feel himself to be 'freed at last from the sin of existing'-this is also an expression of Roquentin's, but Roquentin says it feels like being a character in a novel. How can novels, by telling lies, convert existence into being? We see Roquentin waver between the horror of contingency and the fiction of aventures. In Les Mots Sartre very engagingly tells us that he was Roquentin, certainly, but that he was Sartre also, 'the elect, the chronicler of hells' to whom the whole novel of which he now speaks so derisively was a sort of aventure, though what was represented within it was 'the unjustified, brackish existence of my fellow-creatures.

Frank Kermode
we-are-all-poor-but-there-is-difference-between-what-mrs-spark-intends-by-speaking-slender-means-what-stevens-called-our-poverty-sartre-our-need-besoin-the-poet-finds-his-brief-f
?Earn cash when you save a quote by clicking
EARNED Load...
LEVEL : Load...