#numb

The value of me is equal to 5097033198, but also 3051982. The first is my phone number, and the second is my birthday. I assign values to people. My fifth grade bus driver had a Cheeto factor of four. ↗

— Jarod Kintz

#funny #phone-number #value #equality

Some attribute had departed from her, the permanence of which had been essential to keep her a woman. Such is frequently the fate, and such the stern development, of the feminine character and person, when the woman has encountered, and lived through, an experience of peculiar severity. If she be all tenderness, she will die. If she survive, the tenderness will either be crushed out of her, or—and the outward semblance is the same—crushed so deeply into her heart that it can never show itself more. ↗

— Nathaniel Hawthorne

#pain #sorrow #experience

Unfortunately, he still hadn’t asked for my number, or a date, or my hand in marriage, and my drink was getting low. ↗

— Kimberly Novosel

#dating #drink #flirting #love #men-and-women

You've faced horrors in these past weeks... I don't know which is worse. The terror you feel the first time you witness such things, or the numbness that comes after it starts to become ordinary. ↗

— Tasha Alexander

#horror #numbness #terror #tragedy #experience

Once I dated a woman I only liked 43%. So I only listened to 43% of what she said. Only told the truth 43% of the time. And only kissed with 43% of my lips. Some say you can't quantify desire, attaching a number to passion isn't right, that the human heart doesn't work like that. But for me it does-I walk down the street and numbers appear on the foreheads of the people I look at. In bars, it's worse. With each drink, the numbers go up until every woman in the joint has a blurry eighty something above her eyebrows, and the next day I can only remember 17% of what actually happened. That's the problem with booze-it screws with your math. ↗

— Jeffrey McDaniel

#the-biology-of-numbers #dating

There was no other way to say it. After being heartbroken for so long, I had made myself completely numb inside. Maybe not from physical pain, but anything emotional, yes. Sexual pleasure? Numb to that, too. I’d have been a great actress. After all, I had the perfect, mind-blowing orgasm down to an art. Suppose I deserve an Oscar for that. ↗

— Jennifer Salaiz

#hurt #numb #sad #art

Just to show my dad that I think he's number one, I bought him a urinal cake for his birthday. ↗

— Jarod Kintz

#dad #funny #humor #number-one #urinal-cake

I disliked numbers, and they didn't think much of me either. ↗

— R.J. Anderson

#numbers #humor

Mathematicians call them twin primes: pairs of prime numbers that are close to each other, almost neighbors, but between them there is always an even number that prevents them from truly touching. Numbers like 11 and 13, like 17 and 19, 41 and 43. If you have the patience to go on counting, you discover that these pairs gradually become rarer. You encounter increasingly isolated primes, lost in that silent, measured space made only of ciphers, and you develop a distressing presentiment that the pairs encountered up until that point were accidental, that solitude is the true destiny. Then, just when you’re about to surrender, when you no longer have the desire to go on counting, you come across another pair of twins, clutching each other tightly. There is a common conviction among mathematicians that however far you go, there will always be another two, even if no one can say where exactly, until they are discovered. Mattia thought that he and Alice were like that, twin primes, alone and lost, close but not close enough to really touch each other. He had never told her that. When he imagined confessing these things to her, the thin layer of sweat on his hands evaporated completely and for a good ten minutes he was no longer capable of touching anything. ↗

— Paolo Giordano

#the-solitude-of-prime-numbers #imagination

Let's put it this way, I like number seven. ↗

— Michael Schumacher

#i #like #number #put #seven