Sleep when your baby sleeps. Everyone knows this classic tip, but I say why stop there? Scream when your baby screams. Take Benadryl when your baby takes Benadryl. And walk around pantless when your baby walks around pantless.
Françoise could not help taking a surreptitious glance at Xavière: she gave a start of amazement. Xavière was no longer watching, her head was lowered. Françoise barely suppressed a scream. The girl was pressing the lighted end against her skin, a bitter smile curling her lips. It was an intimate, solitary smile, like that of a half-wit; the voluptuous, tortured smile of a woman possessed of some secret pleasure.
The bathroom door swings open. Emma sees the blood painting my skin and the red rivers carved on my body. Emma sees the wet knife, silver and bone. The screams of my little sister shatter mirrors.
His specialty was interrogation. Imagine it, gentlemen. Being strapped to a table so that you are entirely at the mercy of a monster such as this. A person who delights in your pain. A person to whom your screams are more delicious than a lover's whisper. A creature who knows how to keep you alive while he skillfully and meticulously deconstructs those things that define you as human?
This pen is my only outlet, my only voice, because I have no one else to speak to, no mind but my own to drown in and all the lifeboats are taken and all the life preservers are broken and I don't know how to swim I can't swim I can't swim and it's getting so hard. It's getting so hard. It's like there are a million screams caught inside of my chest but I have to keep them all in because what's the point of screaming if you'll never be heard and no one will ever hear me in here. No one will ever hear me again.
The American Scream is the personification of the plague of madness sweeping the states. Only he's real
How many are silenced, because in order to get to their art they would have to scream?
The negative screams at you but the positive only whispers.
Exactly this type of people like you, at the beginning you're gonna be shy but later on you're gonna jump on a chair and you will scream hit him!
I remember thinking that Janis Joplin sang like Mae West talked. When I first heard the primal scream in 'Piece Of My Heart,' I was hooked. 'Cheap Thrills,' Janis 'Live' with Big Brother And The Holding Company, was one of my all time faves. During the 'whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa's' in 'Combination Of Two,' I couldn't help but go to the mirror and pretend I was a wild woman like Janis, in a rock band.
I think we are living in a world that is too perfect and things are too retouched. I want to scream at the top of my lungs 'our imperfections are what make us special'
My Nafs screams out for what it desires. But my will to be free screams louder.
Profound music leads us beyond language...to the dark roots of our scream and the celestial heights of our silence.
I like the atmosphere. You can't beat it when you're introduced. I like making a play and hearing the fans scream. I like the physical as well as the emotional aspect, especially when you win.
The true terrorists of our world do not meet at the docks at midnight, or scream "Allahu Akbar" before some violent action. The true terrorists of our world wear 5000 dollar suits and work in the highest positions of finance, government and business.
I started acting because I was miserable and crazy and wanted to be someone else, to run around and scream in front of people without getting in trouble.
I'd rather not deal with such questions, because anyway it's like shearing a pig - lots of screams but little wool.
And that phrase - 'sleeping like a baby.' Some blonde said it blithely on the subway the other day. I wanted to lie down next to her and scream for five hours in her ear.
The object of Zen is not to kill all feelings and become anesthetized to pain and fear. The object of Zen is to free us to scream loudly and fully when it is time to scream.
I can make your girlfriend scream louder than you ever could just by pressing her follow button.
Everybody hurts some days. It's okay to be afraid. Everybody hurts, everybody screams. Everybody feels this way.
It's the same thing now. When I go onstage the young people scream and holler as much as the older generation.
It's a huge Carthusian monastery, stuck down between rocks and sea, where you may imagine me, without white gloves or hair curling, as pale as ever, in a cell with such doors as Paris never had for gates. The cell is the shape of a tall coffin, with an enormous dusty vaulting, a small window... Bach, my scrawls and waste paper - silence - you could scream - there would still be silence. Indeed, I write to you from a strange place.
We have boys now, and men, in the rock and roll business and all the show business, who have this reaction on women. They scream. They yell. They do all sorts of wild things.
What exists beneath the sea?I'd always pictured it in colors of emerald and aquamarine, where black velvet fish with sequined eyes swim among plankton.But, when my eyes adjust, I see gray stones, lost anchors, wet wood, buttons, hooks, and eyes, the salem witches who wouldn't float, stars and stripes, missing vessels, windup toys, the souls of Romeo and Juliet, peaches, cream, pistons, screams, cages of ribs and birds, tunnels, nutcracker soldiers, satin bows, drugstore signs, Pandora box ripped open at its hinges.
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