I gave up meat when I was twelve. & One day I was cutting up a chicken for my mom, and I hit a tumor with the knife. There was pus and blood all over the place. That was enough for me.
There is no knife that cuts so sharply and with such poisoned blade as treachery.
No matter how subtle the wizard, a knife between the shoulder blades will seriously cramp his style.
I don't ... like rhythm, assonance, all that stuff. You just go on your nerve. If someone's chasing you down the street with a knife you just run, you don't turn around and shout, 'Give it up! I was a track star for Mineola Prep.'
I continue to get further away from the usual painter's tools such as easel, palette, brushes, etc. I prefer sticks, trowels, knives and dripping fluid paint or a heavy impasto with sand, broken glass or other foreign matter added.
Never kiss a girl whose brothers have knife scars.
Facing them (men) with knives and spears was much easier than loving them, much easier.
A man may as well open an oyster without a knife, as a lawyer's mouth without a fee.
Once I went professionally to an archaeological expedition-and I learnt something there. In the course of an excavation, when something comes up out of the ground, everything is cleared away very carefully all around it. You take away the loose earth, and you scrape here and there with a knife until finally your object is there, all alone, ready to be drawn and photographed with no extraneous matter confusing it. That is what I have been seeking to do-clear away the extraneous matter so that we can see the truth-the naked shining truth.
You know I could go for a sandwich, but uh, I'm not gonna open TWO jars! I can't be opening and closing all kinds of jars... cltaning, who KNOWS how many knives!?
The tongue, the Chinese say, is like a sharp knife: it kills without drawing blood.
You could stab a knife right through my heart and you'd be too late.
Design is more of a kitchen than a knife, and more of a lab than a beaker.
To choose and be so adamant about this exact location just a block or two away from 9/11, again is that knife, it feels like.
Some years later, long after he and Megadeth parted company, Jay Jones was stabbed to death with a butter knife during-rumor has it-a fight over a bolonga sandwich. That's not funny, of course. But, if you knew Jay, neither is it particularly suprising.
Your mind now, moldering like wedding-cake, heavy with useless experience, rich with suspicion, rumour, fantasy, crumbling to pieces under the knife-edge of mere fact. In the prime of your life.
God created the world just like a knife and left it up to us to take it by the handle or the blade.
A lean, loose-jointed Negro had commenced plunking a guitar beside me while I slept. His clothes were rags; his feet peeped out of his shoes. His face had on it some of the sadness of the ages. As he played, he pressed a knife on the strings of the guitar in a manner popularized by Hawaiian guitarists who used steel bars. The effect was unforgettable.
The First Book: Go ahead, it won't bite. Well... maybe a little. More a nip, like. A tingle. It's pleasurable, really. You see, it keeps on opening. You may fall in. Sure, it's hard to get started; remember learning to use knife and fork? Dig in: you'll never reach bottom. It's not like it's the end of the world -- just the world as you think you know it.
Training is such a vital part of preparation for a game, you really do train to play. It tops up your ability, like sharpening a carving knife. You can get away with not doing it for a while, as long as you have reached a certain standard of fitness.
Keen intelligence is two-edged, It may be used constructively or destructively like a knife, either to cut the boil of ignorance, or to decapitate one's self. Intelligence is rightly guided only after the mind has acknowledged the inescapability of spiritual law.
It's one thing to be helpless as one tries to lace a corset or to mount an elephant, quite another to be helpless as a bandit pushes a black steel knife against the flesh of your throat while his brother comes to join him.
In quick succession, Qhuinn reviewed his answers: No, of course not, the knife was acting of its own volition. I was actually trying to stop it...No, I only meant to give him a shave...No, I didn't realize that slicing open someone's jugular was going to lead to death.
If rape or arson, poison or the knife Has wove no pleasing patterns in the stuff Of this drab canvas we accept as life - It is because we are not bold enough!
Melt all the guns, I thought, break the knives, burn the guillotines-and the malicious will still write letters that kill.
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