#talk

I would like to stress here that a lasting peace in the Chechen republic and so-called peace talks with the bandits are not the same thing, and I would ask everyone to make no mistake about that. ↗

— Boris Yeltsin

#ask #bandits #chechen #everyone #here

If you're a preacher, you talk for a living, so even if you don't make sense, you learn to make nonsense eloquently. ↗

— Andrew Young

#even #learn #living #make #nonsense

I've never been to a shrink. But my parents were very psychologically literate - my father had undergone Freudian analysis - and we often talked about other people in psychological terms, so I picked up a lot of that. ↗

— Toby Young

#analysis #been #father #freudian #had

Americans no longer talk to each other, they entertain each other. They do not exchange ideas, they exchange images. They do not argue with propositions; they argue with good looks, celebrities and comercials. ↗

— Neil Postman

#conversation #people #shallowness #talking #television

I don't believe outstandingly beautiful and charismatic women create obsession in what would otherwise be normal men, but rather they attract the weirdos and the stalkers; flames in the darkness that these disturbing people inhabit, unwittingly drawing them closer until they extinguish the very flame they were drawn to. ↗

— Rosamund Lupton

#stalker #weirdos #beauty

Admit it. You just had sex,” Alice hissed. Cali’s jaw dropped open. “That’s none of your business,” she replied in outrage, “and how the hell did you know?” Alice shook her head “You’re glowing orgasmically. It’s disgustingly sweet. And Kent looks ridiculously relaxed and possessive.” Brushing her best friend away and flushing a little, Cali pretended to look for her salad tongs. “Mind your own business.” “Fine,” Alice grumbled. “Don’t tell me all the dirty details.” She paused for a beat. Then added, “It was rear entry, wasn’t it?” Cali almost strangled on her shock and indignation. “It was not.” Alice chuckled maliciously. “Don’t lie to me. He has that macho glint in his eyes. I’d know that look anywhere. I’m an anthropologist, remember? And mating rituals are one of my specialties. ↗

— Zannie Adams

#business

Taggle looked up at her, his amber eyes as deep as the loneliness Kate had felt before he became her friend. "The traditional thing," he said slowly, "involves the river and a sack. ↗

— Erin Bow

#friendship #love #sacrifice #talking-animals #death

Fate. Destiny. God. It´s all a crock. People want their lives to make sense want to sit back like cosmic detectives and examine what´s happened to them so far identifying the key turning points that shaped them and retro-actively imbuing these moments with a mystic aura like the celestial forces of the universe are a team of writers on the serialized television show of your life charged with concoting outrageously convoluted plotlines designed to achieve resolution by the end of the season. No one wants to believe that it´s all completely random that the direction of our lives is nothing more than a complex series of accidents little nuclear mushroom clouds and we´re just living in the fallout. ↗

— Jonathan Trooper

#design

But since death is inevitable we don’t have to deal with it (it’ll deal with us when it decides to). What we do have to deal with is the psychic, physical, and fusion diseases wrought during our so-called lives as byproducts of the elemental clash. In other words we’re all terminally psychotic and no doctor, hospital, pill, needle, book or guru holds the cure. Because the disease is called life and there is no cure for that but death and death’s just part of the set-up designed to keep you terrified and thus in bondage from the cradle to the crypt so ha ha the joke’s on you except there’s no punchline and the comedian forgot you ever existed as even a comma. ↗

— Lester Bangs

#talking-heads #death

Thank you...for gracing my life with your lovely presence, for adding the sweet measure of your soul to my existence. ↗

— Richard Matheson

#sweet-talk #dreams