A pool of melancholy blooms in my chest and rushes into my body like deep-blue blood.
I stare at the pile of discarded remnants and think of my mother. Did she touch that pillar there? Does her scent still linger in a fragment of glass or a splinter of wood? A terrible emptiness settles into my chest. No matter how much I go about living, there are always small reminders that make the loss fresh again.
There cannot always be fresh fields of conquest by the knife; there must be portions of the human frame that will ever remain sacred from its intrusions, at least in the surgeon's hands. That we have already, if not quite, reached these final limits, there can be little question. The abdomen, the chest, and the brain will be forever shut from the intrusion of the wise and humane surgeon.
I like a hairy chest, I think that's really sexy. I'm not naked a lot oddly enough but I usually wear sweats, its very unsexy.
Here's an example of how it wastes some time. To be judged on or to be talked about on appearance—say chest size—it makes me wear layers, it makes me have to waste time figuring out what am I going to wear so that nobody will look in an area that I don't need them to look at.
All elongated objects, such as sticks, tree-trunks and umbrellas(the opening of these last being comparable to an erection) may stand for the male organ...Boxes, cases, chests, cupboards, and ovens represent the uterus...Rooms in dreams are usually women...Many landscapes in dreams, especially any containing breidges or wooded hills, may clearly be recognized as descriptions of the genitals.
Harry found the [tea]... seemed to burn away a little of the fear fluttering in his chest.
The panic disappeared under those soothing old fingers and the breathing slowed down and stopped hurting the chest as if a fox was caught in it, and then at last Mr. Kroger began to lecture the boy as he used to, Pablo, he murmured, don't ever be so afraid of being lonely that you forget to be careful. Don't forget that you will find it sometimes but other times you won't be lucky, and those are the times when you have got to be patient, since patience is what you must have when you don't have luck.
One trophy is good, but two are better. That way, when a hero wears his medals on his chest, at least his steps are level as he walks by.
If you want to hit a man in the chest, aim for his groin.
Lucille Ball hates the color of her hair, too, and says `I should wear a sign on my chest saying I hate it, but Technicolor demands it.'
The vanquished know war. They see through the empty jingoism of those who use the abstract words of glory, honor, and patriotism to mask the cries of the wounded, the senseless killing, war profiteering, and chest-pounding grief.
In every life there is a turning point. A moment so tremendous, so sharp and clear that one feels as if one's been hit in the chest, all the breath knocked out, and one knows, absolutely knows without the merest hint of a shadow of a doubt that one's life will never be the same.
A concave chest means that your diaphragm is sagging.
Nothing, it appears to me, is of greater value in a man than the power of judgment; and the man who has it may be compared to a chest filled with books, for he is the son of nature and the father of art.
Do not make the mistake of holding your idea close to your chest… Submit it to the criticism of the judicious.
Implants were something I thought I wanted when I was younger, and now I don't. It was hard being active with them, because my chest was always sore. It hurt a lot, and I didn't like always being in pain, so they had to go!
The bigness of the world is redemption. Despair compresses you into a small space, and a depression is literally a hollow in the ground. To dig deeper into the self, to go underground, is sometimes necessary, but so is the other route of getting out of yourself, into the larger world, into the openness in which you need not clutch your story and your troubles so tightly to your chest.
Stop the words now. Open the window in the center of your chest, and let the spirits fly in and out.
I do not know who lives here in my chest, or why the smile comes. I am not myself, more the bare green knob of a rose that lost every leaf and petal to the morning wind.
The designs and my credit have been stolen from me, since I alone have designed the Alien. So why does Fox not give me the credit I rightfully earned? As for those responsible for this conspiracy: all I can wish them is an Alien breeding inside their chests, which might just remind them that the Alien father is HR Giger.
First I took a crap on the hooker's chest, then I told her I'd pay her a thousand dollars to eat it. She was addicted to crack, so of course she did it. It was so gross, though, it made her throw up, so I said I'd pay her another thousand to lick all that up, too. She started to, but for some reason she started crying as she was doing it, saying, 'I went to college! I have a degree!' Oh man, it was hilarious. I don't know if it was technically sex because I just beat off on her face, but definitely one of my most intense orgasms.
I've been given this blessing, which is my granddaughter. You're no longer just you. You suddenly fit into the chest of drawers of life.
In such a regime, I say, you died a good death if your life had inspired someone to come forward and shoot your murderer in the chest-without asking to be paid.
The whitewash'd wall, the nicely sanded floor, The varnish'd clock that click'd behind the door; The chest, contriv'd a double debt to pay,- A bed by night, a chest of drawers by day.
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