Someone once told me that religion is like a knife: You can stab someone with it, or you can slice bread with it.
I had so many older brothers who beat up on me, so I'm a tough kid. I love mixed martial arts, weapons training, guns, knives, driving fast cars and motorcycles.
I think Google should be like a Swiss Army knife: clean, simple, the tool you want to take everywhere.
I have my favourite black knife with me all the time. It's a switchblade. It relaxes me to flick it.
A kitchen without a knife is not a kitchen.
I think there's always going to be a problem dealing with firearms, with knives. It's the animal we are that cause the problems.
I have a scar on my left thigh, kind of almost near my knee. I essentially fell in the 2002 Olympics and when I hit the wall - because of the impact - my right leg kind of came in at like a knife-type angle and stabbed my leg with my own skate blade.
My concern is that we live in an economy in which stabbing someone and waiting for them to complain before we remove the knife has become the normal way of doing business. When did we lose sight of the fact that it's not nice to stab people in the first place?
You can turn your back on a person, but never turn your back on a drug, especially when its waving a razor sharp hunting knife in your eye.
The coolest gift I've ever gotten from a fan was from the Franklin Mint. It was a knife, and it had a picture of General Wade Hampton, who my oldest son is named after. It's a collector's item and came with a case and a stand and everything.
In America, we have always taken it as an article of faith that we 'battle' cancer; we attack it with knives, we poison it with chemotherapy or we blast it with radiation. If we are fortunate, we 'beat' the cancer. If not, we are posthumously praised for having 'succumbed after a long battle.'
I can 100 percent tell you that I have not gone under the surgeon's knife or had a facelift.
I don't look at a knife the way I used to. I'm more aware of what it is. I think twice. This is a key finger. It's in every chord.
...despite all this, it is still hard to admit that there is no one more English than the Indian, no one more Indian than the English. There are still young white men who are angry about that; who will roll out at closing time into the poorly lit streets with a kitchen knife wrapped in a tight fist. But it makes an immigrant laugh to hear the fears of the nationalist, scared of infection, penetration, miscegenation, when this is small fry, peanuts, compared to what the immigrant fears - dissolution, disappearance.
Arrakis teaches the attitude of the knife - chopping off what's incomplete and saying: "Now it's complete because it's ended here."
I'll use the knives for spreading jam, and the gas to warm my greying love.
Sisters, as you know, also have a unique relationship. This is the person who has known you your entire life, who should love you and stand by you no matter what, and yet it's your sister who knows exactly where to drive the knife to hurt you the most.
Why do you tolerate it? (Kat) The same reason Sin hasn’t resigned himself to death. There are six billion people on earth who need someone to protect them from things that are scarier than the tax man or a knife-wielding stranger. Things that a gun won’t stop. As long as their lives hang in the balance, what’s a little humiliation for me? (Acheron)
I really feel like knife skills - not just in the kitchen, but in life - are really critical.
Religion is like a knife: you can either use it to cut bread, or stick in someone's back.
I was young I was so young it hurt like a knife inside because there was no alternative except to hide as long as possible--- not in self-pity but with dismay at my limited chance: trying to connect.
Not responding is a response--we are equally responsible for what we don't do. In the case of animal slaughter, to throw your hands in the air is to wrap your fingers around a knife handle.
When analytic thought, the knife, is applied to experience, something is always killed in the process.
You can't ever stop thinking something quick enough. Something that hurts always gets the knife in too fast for you to slam a lid on it and shove it away.
Enter my first neighbor - a woman who spoke in complete, coherent sentences, who ate with a knife and fork and who only cried at weddings. I couldn't help myself. In a dramatic gesture, I bolted the door and threw my body across it to prevent her exit. She understood.
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