People ask me who my favorite inker is and I tell them my favorite inker was Joe Sinnott...but I was the best. Now I don't mean that as any kind of egotistical thing. It's just that I did what Jack wanted.
I used to get letters from guys in prison. Anymore now I don't even open them. They'd ask me to please sign a couple of cards for their children. Then I see them on eBay two weeks later. Or the people that write and say, "You is one of my favorite cartoonists. I would like a drawing, please." I guess they encourage inmates to write letters to celebrities. It's like a way to make money by selling autographs or something. Give me a break.
When people ask me what I do for a living, I always say, "I get rejected for a living." And that's true.
When you write, you're alone in a room. And when someone reads a book, they're alone in a room, too, usually. It's a really intimate exchange. And so people ask me where I get the boldness to talk about this or that, but I didn't feel like it required any sort of courage, because I was alone. Sometimes it feels weird for people to read it.
It was always a funny thing when someone would ask me my name and I would say "Brooklyn." They would always think that I meant that I lived in Brooklyn, and I would have to clarify that.
I don't think we're capable of knowledge, but I like to keep an open mind. So if you ask me whether I believe in an afterlife or not, whether I believe in God or not, I can only answer you that all things are possible. And if all things are possible, heaven and hell and the angels are also possible. They're not to be ruled out.
People ask me for my autograph after a show. I'm not famous, I think they're messing with me. I think they're trying to make me late for something.
I was walking down the street, and I found a man's hand in my pocket. I asked, "What do you want?" "A match" "Why didn't you ask me?" "I don't talk to strangers."
If you ask me, I'd like to become the first female president. That would be really cool. The first thing I would do is redecorate the White House, it doesn't look very cozy.
Interviewers always used to ask me about my pageboy haircut, and it drove me nuts: it almost made me suspect that there was something strange about it. So I cut off my pageboy.
When I was a young child my folks would ask me why I was rocking back and forth and I'd answer "cause of the music in my head!"
People ask me, 'Would you ever want to play professional golf?' And I'm like, 'No. No, no, no, no. Just because I can hit a good shot every now and then doesn't make me a pro.'
Narratives have the same power, I think. Some readers of my novels ask me, "Why do you understand me?". That's a huge pleasure of mine because it means that readers and I can make our narratives relative.
Semi-facetiously, when people ask me why I write these kinds of stories, I simply say that I was warped as a child. And, there is some truth to that.
I am amazed that people want to ask me questions about God's work in my life. The interviews are a great way to share God's life-changing message and I pray that God continues to open this door for Christians.
It is very hard to tell when I started to be a spiritual teacher. There was a time when occasionally somebody would come and ask me questions. One could say at that point I became a spiritual teacher, although the term did not occur to me then.
Whenever people ask me how I manage to get through this whole crazy time of being incredibly famous and sort of an icon and supposedly a role model and all of this insanity, I always cite my family and then books. I don't know what I would have done without books.
It's a great relief for me that no one will ask me anymore: "Orhan, when will you get the Nobel Prize?"
People ask me all the time, ALL the time, they say the same exact thing. They say, 'Bo, you're an artist... how do we fix Africa?'
I tried eating vegetarian. I felt like a wimp going into a restaurant. "What do you want to eat sir? Broccoli?" Broccoli's a side dish, folks. Always was, always will be, OK! When they ask me what I want, I say: What do you think I want? This is America. I want a bowl of raw red meat right now.
Being in a relationship is like being in A.A. My friends ask me, 'How's it going with that girl?' 'One day at a time, man.'
What then is time? If no one asks me, I know what it is. If I wish to explain it to him who asks, I do not know.
You ask me why I don’t love you, but surely you must believe I am very fond of you and if to desire to possess a person wholly, to admire and honour that person deeply, and to seek to secure that person’s happiness in every way is to “love” then perhaps my affection for you is a kind of love. I will tell you this that your soul seems to me to be the most beautiful and simple soul in the world and it may be because I am so conscious of this when I look at you that my love or affection for you loses much of its violence.
Aren’t you going to ask me if I’m all right?” I say. “No, I’m pretty sure you’re not all right.” He shakes his head. “I’m going to ask you not to make any decisions until we’ve talked about it.
The exception is I'm not going away. Don't ask me to do that ever again.
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