#mate

Anybody who says they are a good liar obviously is not, because any legitimately savvy liar would always insist they're honest about everything. ↗

— Chuck Klosterman

#always #any #anybody #because #everything

That’s sad. How plastic and artificial life has become. It gets harder and harder to find something…real.” Nin interlocked his fingers, and stretched out his arms. “Real love, real friends, real body parts… ↗

— Jess C. Scott

#cyberpunk #materialism #meaning #plastic-surgery #reality

I couldn't imagine that I'd ever fall in love again like I had with Gideon. For better or worse, he was my soulmate. The other half of me. In many ways, he was my reflection. ↗

— Sylvia Day

#soulmate #imagination

That's the ultimate goal of most turkey recipes: to create a great skin and stuffing to hide the fact that turkey meat, in its cooked state, is dry and flavorless. Does it have to be that way? No. We just have to focus on what the turkey is and what the turkey needs. ↗

— Alton Brown

#create #does #dry #fact #focus

We are tempted to believe that certain achievements and possessions will give us enduring satisfaction. We are invited to imagine ourselves scaling the steep cliff face of happiness in order to reach a wide, high plateau on which we will live out the rest of our lives; we are not reminded that soon after gaining the summit, we will be called down again into fresh lowlands of anxiety and desire. ↗

— Alain de Botton

#anxiety #desire #happiness #materialism #possessions

Ultimately in the end, it's the director's choice. ↗

— Donnie Wahlberg

#director #end #in the end #ultimately

Your battles inspired me - not the obvious material battles but those that were fought and won behind your forehead. ↗

— James Joyce

#behind #forehead #fought #inspired #material

I've had teammates I didn't get along with, who hasn't? I've never had a teammate call me a bad guy, while he was my teammate, and if he did when I was gone what kind of teammate was he anyway? ↗

— Curt Schilling

#anyway #bad #bad guy #call #did

Brush strokes write poetry harmonized through the cords of an artist's imagination. Color, contrast, simple compassion splattered across paper leaves tainted with the melody of the silent wind. Gasping, grasping, simply glancing at the souls of those who were not blessed with the visionary sight of inspirational artistry. ↗

— Laura S. Al Bast

#artistry #color #gasping #quote #sight

I was planning to remain an amateur for a while. ↗

— Tracy Austin

#i #planning #remain #while