But this time as soon as he moved she began to fade. He stopped at once, not breathing again, motionless, willing his eyes to see that she had stopped too. But she had not stopped. She was fading, going. "Wait, " he said, talking as sweet as he had ever heard his voice speak to a woman: "Den lemme go wid you, honey." But she was going.
Well, on that day I ceased cleansing my body. No more brushing my teeth, no more washing my hair, no baths, no soap, no water. Thirty days of debris build. I stopped shavin' and I was 18, had a little scraggly beard, really looked like a hippie... Then two weeks before, I stopped eating any food with nutritional value... Then a week before, I stopped going to the bathroom. I did it in my pants. poop, piss the whole shot. My pants got crusted up.
Just as many who were brought up to think of God as a bearded old gentleman sitting on a cloud decided that when they stopped believing in such a being they had therefore stopped believing in God, so many who were taught to think of hell as a literal underground location full of worms and fire...decided that when they stopped believing in that, so they stopped believing in hell. The first group decided that because they couldn't believe in childish images of God, they must be atheists. The second decided that because they couldn't believe in childish images of hell, they must be universalists.
N. T. Wright
My family is very musical, I was surrounded by it. And from four years old I was the one that asked my mother could I take piano lessons.It wasn't forced on me. It was something I wanted to do. And ever since, I've never stopped, I've never stopped playing music. I never went through a period where I didn't want to do it.
When we are in partnership and have stopped clutching each other's throats, when we have stopped enslaving each other, we will stand together, hands clasped, and be friends. We will be comrades, we will be brothers, and we will begin the march to the grandest civilization the human race has ever known
Eugene V. Debs
By the fourth or fifth record there was not a lot of time to sit around. We [The Replacements] stopped rehearsing. We stopped getting together and rehearsing. We'd perform, and that would take it all out of us. Then we'd be done touring and we'd be sick of each other. We'd never call each other up and hang out.
something can only become an illusion after disillusionment. before that, it is something real. what caused the disillusionment? no one told me the print on the wall was just ink and paper and had no life of its own. at some point the cat stopped blinking, and i stopped thinking it could.
This was how you wound up in the Inquisition. When you stopped being able to see any difference between Light Ones and Dark Ones. When for you, people weren't even a flock of sheep, but just a handful of spiders in a glass jar. When you stopped believing in the future, and all you wanted to do was preserve the status quo. For yourself. For those few individuals who were still dear to you.
A man never apologizes for the fact that he has to work. He might say, 'Hey, I am so sorry my hours were long today,' but he'd never feel he has to explain the very fact that he has a career. Once I stopped apologizing, I noticed both my kids also stopped complaining and asking me 'why' I worked.
I was certainly going the right way for a stroke when I left Paris. I paid for it nicely afterwards! When I stopped drinking, when I stopped smoking so much, when I began to think again instead of trying not to think - Good Lord, the depression and the prostration of it! Work in these magnificent natural surroundings (Arles) has restored my morale, but even now some efforts are too much for me: my strength fails me...
Vincent Van Gogh
I basically left Texas with no money. I was making $3.50 working in some mall, so I didn't have a lot of cash. I took $1,000 and headed to California. Along the way I stopped in Vegas because I had always wanted to see Caesar's Palace. So I stopped there and won $2,500 on a slot machine! It was amazing.
Critics stopped being relevant when they stopped writing to inform and contextualize, and when they started writing to signal who they are, to display their identity by their stance on what they are writing about. Criticism should never be about the critic, but thats what it has become, and that's why no one cares about them anymore.
I had taken some of my solo music into the record label. They didn't really care for the direction I was moving in and I found it really disheartening. They wanted a pop hit, which I understand in terms of making money. I get that. But what they were going to ask of me was something I wasn't prepared to deliver and I felt kind of trapped. I just stopped writing. I just stopped. It was stifling.
People were always sorry. Sorry they had done what they had done, sorry they were doing what they were doing, sorry they were going to do what they were going to do; but they still did whatever it is. The sorrow never stopped them; it just made them feel better. And so the sorrow never stopped.
It's idiotic, it's crazy. If you die and then you're just nothing, there isn't any point to anything. Why do we live at all if we die and stop being? Father wasn't ready to be stopped. No one's ready to be stopped. We don't have time to be ready to be stopped. It's all crazy... Look at my glasses. I can't even see that there are any stars in the sky without them, but it's not the glasses that are doing the seeing, it's me, Madeleine. I don't think Father's eyes are seeing now, but he is. And maybe his brain isn't thinking, but a brain's just something to think through, the way my glasses are something to see through.
Once upon a time humans faced each other and pulled thoughts from minds, advanced rapidly, revolutionised industry and evolved explosively. Then one day they stopped, and stared at a box. They grew fat and awkward in public, stopped expressing emotions and couldn't figure out how to reverse it: they reinvented themselves from Emperors back into prawns, because someone turned the TV on.
I was discovered by Paul Marciano of Guess when I was actually, like, two years old. And so I started with Baby Guess; I did Guess Kids, and then I stopped because I was a really competitive horseback rider and a club volleyball player. I went to Junior Olympic qualifiers for volleyball. So, I kind of stopped modeling.
I never stopped being a mother, and I never stopped being an artist. Which is probably why my kids are so creative. When I'm with my kids I'm creating but I'm still a mom. I don't wear two different hats. My kids have always been on the set with me. I was breastfeeding on set. None of my kids would take a bottle so they could not leave my side for a very long time.
Jada Pinkett Smith
How long since he'd been back home? Ten years? Fifteen? He'd stopped keeping track around the time he'd finally stopped looking over his shoulder. At the time, leaving had seemed too good to be true. He'd spent months feeling like he was half a step ahead of some nameless specter; like if he let his guard down, even for a second, whatever it was would drag him right back where he'd come from.
Instantly, the noise stopped. The whole room lay in perfect silence. The tire builders stood in long lines, touching each other, perfectly motionless, deafened by the silence.... For the first time in history, American mass-production workers had stopped a conveyor belt and halted the inexorable movement of factory machinery.
Every major industry was once a growth industry. But some that are now riding a wave of growth enthusiasm are very much in the shadow of decline. Others that are thought of as seasoned growth industries have actually stopped growing. In every case, the reason growth is threatened, slowed, or stopped is not because the market is saturated. It is because there has been a failure of management.
When I was eleven I stopped dreaming the dreams that didn't come true, I stopped talking to people who didn't listen, I lost hope and I retreated. I assumed that the root of the problem was that I was too strange for the real world. That being the case, I created a charming and dynamic personality to make the necessary forays into the Outside, and I kept my strangeness for myself; my own peculiar jewels under lock and key.
Throughout my life, I have never stopped to strategize about my next steps. I often just keep walking along, through whichever door opens. I have been on a journey and this journey has never stopped. When the journey is acknowledged and sustained by those I work with, they are a source of inspiration, energy and encouragement. They are the reasons I kept walking, and will keep walking, as long as my knees hold out.
My heart stopped. It just stopped beating. And for the first time in my life, I had that feeling. You know, like the world is moving all around you, all beneath you, all inside you, and you're floating. Floating in midair. And the only thing keeping you from drifting away is the other person's eyes. They're connected to yours by some invisible physical force, and they hold you fast while the rest of the world swirls and twirls and falls completely away.
Wendelin Van Draanen
In this hour, Siddhartha stopped fighting his fate, stopped suffering. On his face flourished the cheerfulness of a knowledge, which is no longer opposed by any will, which knows perfection, which is in agreement with the flow of events, with the current of life, full of sympathy for the pain of others, full of sympathy for the pleasure of others, devoted to the flow, belonging to the oneness.
I think I fell in love with her, a little bit. Isn't that dumb? But it was like I knew her. Like she was my oldest, dearest friend. The kind of person you can tell anything to, no matter how bad, and they'll still love you, because they know you. I wanted to go with her. I wanted her to notice me. And then she stopped walking. Under the moon, she stopped. And looked at us. She looked at me. Maybe she was trying to tell me something; I don't know. She probably didn't even know I was there. But I'll always love her. All my life.
Suddenly, I was stopped by a quiet song.. Somebody stood, swaying slowly on the road, In the darkest shadow by a puddle, And low above it a small tree grew.. It might've been a wild cherry tree.. He kept singing, watching the puddle fill.. I dragged the pine through the water, And with my other hand steadied my sack, Where a bottle of red vino dangled.. He didn't move, but kept on singing.. Should I have stopped there And joined his singing?.. Had he found The one happy tree?.. No one knows where it grows- Or what it looks like.. And who is allowed to recognize it?.. I never stood under it, Even to wait for rain to pass Or watch between the drops The silent froth appear.. Swaying, he kept on singing.. Otherwise, he would have fallen And the rain stopped.. He danced his own rain Under that tree.. I can't do such things.. Perhaps it was a wolf?..
I was so happy when I found out the wounds you'd inflicted weren't serious, that you had stopped.' 'Yes, I stopped. Barry, all of you, see what I did as this suicide attempt. But I didn't want to die. I only wanted my mom to hear me. To come find me. To see that I was sad. To help me, I guess. I just didn't have it in me to tell her what I needed. And fine, I get now that she couldn't read my mind.' He wiped his eyes again. 'But I didn't get it then. I'm so mad at myself. What was wrong with me that I couldn't just tell her? That I didn't have the capacity to ask her for anything.
He stopped walking. I stopped walking. He moved his face to mine. I stayed there. He put his mouth on mine, soft. We kissed like that, lips on lips, and I could feel the softness of his mouth and the rougher line where his lip was chapped. The shiver in my stomach was there. The way I knew it would be, only more. It was real.
Adam Berlin Belmondo Style
When Martha first met me, I was anxious and jumpy. I was always tapping my foot, rocking, or exhibiting some other behavioral aberration. Of course, now we know that's just normal Aspergian behavior, but back then other people thought it was weird, so of course I did, too. One day, for some reason, she decided to try petting my arm, and I immediately stopped rocking and fidgeting. The result was so dramatic, she never stopped. It didn't take long for me to realize the calming effect, too. I like being petted and scratched. "Can you pet me?" I say when I sit next to her.
John Elder Robison
YOU'RE THE PSYCHOTIC DAUGHTER OF A PSYCHOTIC MOTHER YOUR FATHER WAS A MEGALOMANIAC YOU'VE GOT AN INSANE BROTHER YOUR NURSE COMMITTED SUICIDE WHEN YOU TORE HER OFF STRIP YOU CARRY A SHOOTER TO PARTIES 'COS YOU THINK IT'S HIP BUT IT'S A PURE MANIA IT STOPPED BEING A GAME WHEN YOU FOUND IT WOULD TAKE YOU TO THE ASYLUM AGAIN WELL YOUR UNCLE WAS A RICH MAN BUT HE ALSO WAS A THIEF HIS SISTER WAS A DYKE THING WHO WENT OUT WITH GIRLS TO GET RELIEF YOU COME ON WITH YOUR "HOW DO YOU DO?" HONEY I NEED A DRINK BEFORE I CAN LOOK AT YOU BUT IT'S A PURE MANIA IT STOPPED BEING A GAME WHEN YOU FOUND IT WOULD TAKE YOU TO THE ASYLUM AGAIN WELL YOUR GRANDMOTHER WAS INTO HOMICIDE JUST FOR KICKS AND YOUR GRANDFATHER PUT PEOPLE'S EYES OUT WITH A POINTED STICK YOUR WHOLE FAMILY SEEMS TO BE ROUND THE BEND IF I GOT HITCHED UP WITH YOU IT'D BE THE LIVIN' END BUT IT'S A PURE MANIA IT STOPPED BEING A GAME WHEN YOU FOUND IT WOULD TAKE YOU TO THE ASYLUM AGAIN WELL YOU MAY NOT HAVE AN ASYLUM BUT YOU SURE GOT 9.00 TO 5.00 YOU'D BETTER GO AND FIND A DOCTOR SEE IF YOU'RE ALIVE
One day, I stopped hating. I ceased all meaningless activity. I completed the circle. I Set my sights straight. Like an Arrow I flew. I stopped acting. I got tired of playing with you. Random violence and destruction Because my reason for living, my out, My excuse. What is your excuse? Destruction. Without hate, without fear, Without judgement. I am no better Than you. No-one knows this better Than I do. I just got tired of playing Parlor Games.
You don't look for jobs. You don't phone up 10 clubs and say, Here I am. You are offered the job. I was in Benfica many years ago. I was leaving the training ground and I had a car after me. It went on for 10 minutes. Anyhow, he stopped and I stopped and he said, I'm from the Italian embassy. Ah yes, and what do you want? I want your phone number because Roma wants you as a manager next season. Three months later I was sitting on the bench in Roma. I don't think the rest of working society works like football.
You missed breakfast, " Jason announced as Trevor stepped into the large busy kitchen filled with Bradfords and food. "That's fine. I'm not really hungry, " he said, barely aware or caring that all activity in the busy kitchen suddenly stopped as every Bradford in the room, even one year old Cole stopped trying to climb onto the counter to get at the large platter of cookies his mother made to stare at him in disbelief.