Katniss, got that spile?" Finnick asks, snapping me back to reality.
I think nighttime is dark so you can imagine your fears with less distraction.
There is not enough time to do all the nothing we want to do.
Calvin: Look, a dead bird! Hobbes: It must've hit a window. Calvin: Isn't it beautiful? It's so delicate. Sighhh. . . once it's too late, you appreciate what a miracle life is. You realize that nature is ruthless and our existence is very fragile, temporary, and precious. But to go on with your daily affairs, you can't really think about that. . . which is probably why everyone takes the world for granted and why we act so thoughtlessly. It's very confusing. I suppose it will all make sense when we grow up. Hobbes: No doubt.
What's the point of wearing your favorite rocket ship underpants if nobody ever asks to see 'em?
We're so busy watching out for what's just ahead of us that we don't take time to enjoy where we are.
I asked mom if I was a gifted child. She said they certainly wouldn't have paid for me.
I am very shy. When I go to a charity ball, I don't mind if people look at my sleeves. I mind terribly if I have to say something.
So here I am - a 75-year-old man sitting on a bar stool in a blues club, trying to figure out exactly how I got here. Any way you look at it, it's a helluva story.
The all importance of clothes has sprung up in the intellect of the dandy without effort, like an instinct of genius; he is inspired with clothes, a poet of clothes.
He who obeys God's laws finds him a father. He who disobeys them, finds him a judge.