I believe that my own Christian faith does indeed make universal claims.
My own children are John Cena fans- which really pisses me off by the way.
I'll eat a nugget of my own poop for 20 bucks. I'll pay you 20 bucks and I'll eat it.
If I had my own world I'd build you an empire from here to the far lands to spread love like violence!
I live by my own rules (reviewed, revised, and approved by my wife).. but still my own.
I wanted to go to a place where I could think, really sink into my own imagination, or ride it, or drift along it, as in a balloon. The kind of place that probably all writers crave. The kind of place where the outside world is still and quiet and you get a chance to listen, to peer, to go inward
And at the start of every new day, I still believed I could choose my own beginning, one that was scrubbed clean of everything past
I don't compete with other discus throwers. I compete with my own history.
Come on. I don't have any problem violating my own insights in practice.
Currently I am working on another three books, doing a lot of magazine work, am shooting for fifteen stock agencies, plus my own photo library - all this keeps me quite busy!
I had an allowance, but I had to do things around the house to earn it. I think I always wanted my own money.
I always felt my emancipation into truly being a grown-up was when I had to figure out how to fold up a king-size fitted bottom sheet on my own.
Is it a coincidence that stories from the private life became more popular just as the grand hope for public redemption through revolution was beginning to sour? I witnessed a similar shift in taste in my own time. In the 1960s, while a hopeful vision of a just society arose again, countless poems and plays concerning politics and public life were written, read, and performed. But after the hope diminished and public life seemed less and less trustworthy, this subject was less in style.
I'm Owen Hart and I have my own identity and my own style.
Whenever I stumble over my own feet, or blurt out a thought that makes no sense at all, or leave the house wearing one pattern too many, I always think, 'It's okay, I'm from New Jersey.' I love New Jersey, because it's not just an all-purpose punch line, but probably a handy legal defense, as in 'Yes, I shot my wife because I thought she was Bigfoot, but I'm from New Jersey.'
In searching for a way out of my own troubles, I had found my way into the troubles of others, some long gone, and now I was trying to find my way back out, through their troubles, as if we human beings can ever learn from one another.
I don’t care what people think…I learned a long time ago…I was 19 and had a very traumatic experience….and I learned that I have to go to bed with myself at night and that I have to please myself…and as long as I don’t go out of my way to offend anybody that I love, upset my mother or my husband…I’ll do my own thing. And if the public doesn’t like it, it’s their problem, not mine.
I resolve to be more patient, less selfish, cherish my friends, and in my small way help whoever needs help. I cannot conceivably influence the world's destiny, but I can make my own life more worthwhile. I can give some help to some people; that is not vital to all the world's problems and yet, I think if everyone did just that, we might see quite a world in our time!
I find myself regarding existence as though from beyond the tomb, from another world; all is strange to me; I am, as it were, outside my own body and individuality; I am depersonalized, detached, cut adrift. Is this madness?
I stood for parliament with the amazing support and help of my ex-husband, but it's not something that was handed to me like a peerage. I worked hard and was elected. So my achievements, such as they are, are my own.
I had longed to come home but now that I was there, it wasn't much fun. Home wasn't the same if I couldn't sleep in my own bedroom or use the bathroom by myself. I felt like a stranger in those familiar rooms.
I write to please myself—of course, that is a given. But beyond this reach for pleasure, I know that I write for my countrymen, that they may be lifted from apathy and ignorance. I write because of a compulsion to make something out of the nothing that is my own life.
Because I was starting out in my 20's. I wanted to do it on my own. I didn't want to use my dad or have people say I was using him.
I needed to carve out my own place and find out what I was going to do
I lot of people remember when that kid spray-painted my brand new Porsche for Punk'd. That was pretty funny. He got me pretty good. Of course, most people don't know I eventually got him back with my own show. I call it a show, really it's just an hour-long video shot in my bedroom featuring the two of us.
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