To whom shall I hire myself out? What beast should I adore? What holy image is attacked? What hearts shall I break? What lies shall I uphold? In what blood tread?
Yes, victors are our strongest. They're the ones who survived the arena and slipped the noose of poverty that strangles the rest of us. They, or should I say we, are the very embodiment of hope where there is no hope. And now twenty-three of us will be killed to show how even that hope was an illusion.
No good sentences ever include the word ‘should.’ I should have paid the tavern bill; now they’re coming to break my legs. I should never have run off with my best friend’s wife; now she devils me constantly. I should—
I've been labelled many times - a criminal, an anarchist, a rebel, sometimes human garbage, but never a philosopher, which is a pity because that's what I am. I chose a life apart from the common flow, not only because the common flow makes me sick but because I question the logic of the flow, and not only that - I don't know if the flow exists! Why should I chain myself to the wheel when the wheel itself might be a construct, an invention, a common dream to enslave us?
With slow care rather than stealth we must approach the subject of a certain woman. Her wildness is of such degree, I fear approaching her too quickly even in a story. Should I move recklessly, I might startle even the idea of her into sudden flight.
Annoyed?” said Sophie. “Why should I be annoyed? Someone only filled the castle with rotten aspic, and deafened everyone in Porthaven, and scared Calcifer to a cinder, and broke a few hundred hearts. Why should that annoy me?
What should I do about the wild and the tame? The wild heart that wants to be free, and the tame heart that wants to come home.
I've been having a lot of trouble sleeping as we all should. I dunno. You don't live that long. It doesn't matter.
When the universe is ephemeral, one can easily feel that human existence is meaningless. Why should I do anything at all? On the other hand it is tempting to try and make the best of it. I'm here, anyway. The imagination won't cope if I try to picture where I'd otherwise be.
I laugh shakily. ‘You’re a little scary, Four.’ ‘Do me a favor,’ he says, ‘and don’t call me that.’ ‘What should I call you, then?’ ‘Nothing.’ He takes his hand from my face. ‘Yet.
Why should I fear death? If I am, death is not. If death is, I am not. Why should I fear that which can only exist when I do not?
I GO DOWN TO THE SHORE I go down to the shore in the morning and depending on the hour the waves are rolling in or moving out, and I say, oh, I am miserable, what shall— what should I do? And the sea says in its lovely voice: Excuse me, I have work to do.
I once had a girl, or should I say she once had me.
Should I pull on a shirt?" he asked with hint of amusement. I WILL NOT BLUSH. "No." He'd be doing the world a favor if he never wore a shirt again, but I wasn't going to tell him that part. "You're fine.
But for I am a woman should I therefore live that I should not tell you the goodness of God?
The real question one should ask when presented with a puzzle is, ‘Should I solve it? Do I really need to know the answer?
Why should I be polished and improved like goods for sale? I might not even want to marry! And besides, I have many skills. I can read and write and play the flute and harp. Why should I change to please some man? If he doesn’t like me the way I am, then he can get some other girl for his wife.
What should I possibly have to tell you, oh venerable one? Perhaps that you're searching far too much? That in all that searching, you don't find the time for finding?
Good God, you don’t give up.” “Nope.” I laughed, couldn’t help it, and his smile spread in response to the sound. “I’m sure there are plenty of girls who want to go out on a date with you.” “There are.” “Wow. Modest aren’t you?” “Why should I be?” he shot back. “And I want to go out on a date with you. Not them.
The fact that for a long time Cubism has not been understood and that even today there are people who cannot see anything in it means nothing. I do not read English, an English book is a blank book to me. This does not mean that the English language does not exist. Why should I blame anyone but myself if I cannot understand what I know nothing about?" -Pablo Picasso.
Should I be grateful or should I curse the fact that despite all misfortune I can still feel love, an unearthly love but still for earthly objects.
I came to realize that if people could make me angry they could could control me. Why should I give someone else such power over my life?
My mission, should I choose to accept it, is to find peace with exactly who and what I am. To take pride in my thoughts, my appearance, my talents, my flaws and to stop this incessant worrying that I can’t be loved as I am.
Why should I be angry at someone when they are out dancing?
In all I wish, how happy should I be, Thou grand Deluder, were it not for thee? So weak thou art that fools thy power despise; And yet so strong, thou triumph'st o'er the wise.
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