Let me tell you about gays in the military. I don't want any gay people hanging around me while I'm killing kids. I just don't want to see it.
The field of quantum possibility, in which love has opened doors otherwise unimaginable, is our soul's true habitat. The world of fear and limitation is not our home, and who among us is not profoundly weary of hanging out where we do not belong.
In the United States. . . politics is purged of all menace, all sinister quality, all genuine significance, and stuffed with such gorgeous humors, such inordinate farce that one comes to the end of a campaign with one's ribs loose, and ready for King Lear, or a hanging, or a course of medical journals.
I love hanging out at home with my kid. It's hard to get me to leave the house.
She has her gown nicely in place tonight, doesn't she? Black velvet and sparkles, not a thread left hanging. Clever girl, this city. Even the sky is her friend.
You are most powerful when you are most silent. People never expect silence. They expect words, motion, defense, offense, back and forth. They expect to leap into the fray. They are ready, fists up, words hanging leaping from their mouths. Silence? No.
I tried partying and going out, doing drugs and even dealing drugs to support my habit. I was hanging out with people from the underground who were doing illegal things all the time. I was experimenting with more and more drugs to the point where skateboarding was the last thing on my mind and my family was next to last.
When I was in the hospital getting my sex change, I was just wishing I could be a pretty girl working in a mall. If I could have a crystal ball and see what I look like now - you know, modeling, David LaChapelle, hanging out with Daphne Guinness, singing with Lil' Kim, and traveling all over the world, I'd be like, "Wow, I can't believe this. "
I have more fun hanging out with my friends who are musicians and rock stars. You know politicians by and large are pretty stiff, pretty rehearsed.
If school days are the happiest days of your life, I'm hanging myself with my skip-rope tonight.
People are renovating places and opening ambitious new venues. That's one thing that music does. It gets people out of their houses, and gets them hanging out together.
Women's magazines continue to print 'helpful' articles on How to Hang on to Your Husband while thousands of wives write to me and complain that 'hanging is too good for 'em.
At night. . . the streets become rhythmical perspectives of glowing dotted lines, reflections hung upon them in the streets as the wistaria hangs its violet racemes on its trellis. The buildings are shimmering verticality, a gossamer veil, a festive scene-prop hanging there against the black sky to dazzle, entertain, amaze.
When you launch in a rocket, you're not really flying that rocket. You're just sort of hanging on.
I think the rule of thumb should be this: if you preface a sentence about a friend with the phrase, 'I love X, but. . . ' more than once in any conversation, you should stop hanging out with them.
I'm not religious, but I am spiritual. I have my own relationship with a being that I consider to be everywhere. All and everything. I don't need a church or a synagogue or a mosque. I don't need to kneel down, I don't need to stand up, I don't need to be hanging from a thread.
I live in New York and I love hanging out in gay clubs, and a lot of my friends are gay. But, for better or for worse, I'm not gay.
Hanging and wiving goes by destiny.
I lie on the floor, washed by nothing and hanging on. I cry at night. I am afraid of hearing voices, or a voice. I have come to the edge, of the land. I could get pushed over.
Over the years I've tried to be clear about the things that are important in life, the things that matter, and I've tried to pursue them, and, I've had a certain sense of 'stickability,' hanging in there, and I suppose that's me.