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M Quotes

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All M Quotes

“My friend Jenny said once that I have a calming presence. Maybe it's because I am so quiet. Dogs and cats always seem relaxed around me. Even the crazy ones. I don't know. I'm a pretty nervous guy on the inside. I think Jenny only talks to me because we work together. It's not like we hang out after work. Most of my life I've had a small group of friends. People make me nervous. They take a lot out of me.”

“My friend jewelry designer Courtney Crangi has been obsessed with Star Wars all her life and has seen the movies 150 times. When we first started talking about it, I was amazed that her knowledge made mine - which was even then pretty impressive - seem pathetic. And I think there are a couple of reasons for this. One is that the leader of the rebellion is Princess Leia. American theatergoers had never seen a princess like that. She's not a delicate flower, she's not passive, she's often the only one who has a clue.”

“My friend Julie was cooking dinner in her kitchen one night. Her expression was blank as she stood alone working by herself. Her daughter walked in and gasped, “Mom! What’s wrong?” She said “Nothing. I’m fine.” In response, her daughter added, “Then tell your face! You scared me!” Emotional expressions can easily be misinterpreted when we are not aware of what people are seeing. Being deep in thought can look that way.”

“My friend Kate once went to a concert of Mongolian throat singers who were traveling through New York City on a rare world tour. Although she couldn't understand the words to their songs, she found the music almost unbearably sad. After the concert, Kate approached the lead Mongolian singer and asked, "What are your songs about?" He replied, "Our songs are about the same things that everyone else's songs are about: lost love, and somebody stole your fastest horse.”

“My friend Kathy is the only person who'll be halfway honest with me. 'Did you ever see a cowboy film, where someone has been caught by the Indians and tied between two wild stallions, each pulling in opposite directions?' she asked.I nodded mutely.'That's a bit what giving birth is like.”

“My friend Madea has "attitude" that comes with wisdom. Back in our teens and twenties, we thought we knew everything and made all those foolish mistakes. Then, when we got a little older, at thirty, we started getting these flashes of light, revelations of what a great and lucky thing it is that we didn't get caught doing those stupid things back then. Around forty, if we are lucky, we stop lying to ourselves. Fifty and above, we've run out of patience for foolishness. Take me to the bottom line.”

“My friend, meaning to respond to her questions, I raved some words at someone and gaped at another and all the while the lady stood elsewhere. This morning, in reality your friend stood there overcome with silliness. So I told myself, “It’s time you take your leave, My Dear!” And when I turned around and tottered my way outwards, at her door, I fell down like a crumbling wall.”

“My friend Mimmo, who owns three men’s shops in Rome but who comes from Naples where his father was in the same business, says that nowadays, after two days in Naples, he can’t wait to leave again. “Life in Rome is not easy, but at least there are some certainties. In Naples, forget it. The only thing that counts there is prepotenza,” roughly, bullying or arrogance.”

“My friend, nearly all major purchases and decisions are made by people for emotional reasons and your goal as an honest salesperson is to prove how your product or service can help your clients feel the way they want to feel, because your product or service will deliver the results for them that they need to solve their problems now.”

“My friend opened a small box which Lestrade had produced. Inside lay a beautiful silver cigarette case monogrammed with Holmes's initials, underneath which ran the words, "With the Respects of Scotland Yard, November 1888." Sherlock Holmes sat with his lips parted, but no sound emerged. "Thank you," he managed at length.”

“My friend Oscar is one of those princes without kingdom who wander around hoping you'll kiss them so they won't turn into frogs. He gets everything back to front and that's why I like him. People who think they get everything right do things wrong, and this, coming from a left-handed person, says it all. He looks at me and thinks I don't see him. he imagines I'll evaporate if he touches me and if he doesn't touch me, then he'll evaporate. He's got me on such a high pedestal he doesn't know how to get up there. He thinks my lips are door to paradise, but doesn't know they are poisoned. I am such a coward that I don't tell him so as not to lose him. I pretend I don't see him, and that I am, indeed, going to evaporate... My friend Oscar is one of those princes who would be well advised to stay away from fairy tales and the princesses who inhabit them. He doesn't know he's really Prince Charming who must kiss Sleeping Beauty in order to wake her from her eternal sleep, but that's because Oscar doesn't know that fairy tales are lies, although not all lies are fairy tales. Princes aren't charming, and sleeping beauties, however beautiful, never wake up from their sleep. He's the best friend I've ever had and if I ever come across Merlin, I'll thank him for having placed him in my path.”

“My friend Peter Schneider, the great novelistic chronicler of Berlin life, once researched and wrote a true story about a wartime episode. It involved the sheltering of those Berlin Jews who had violated the Nazi race laws by marrying Aryans. Some hundreds of these people were saved, in an informal arrangement whereby some thousands of ordinary Berliners provided a bed for the night here, a ration book there. Peter thought that the publication of this account would be well-received; there is always a market for stories about decent Germans. Instead the reaction was a surly one. It took him some time to realise that by describing the brave and generous but low-level and unheroic conduct of so many citizens, he had undermined the moral alibi of many thousands more, whose long-standing excuse for their own inaction had been that, under such terror, no gesture of resistance had been possible. This depressing discovery need not blind us to the true moral, which is that everybody can do something, and that the role of dissident is not, and should not be, a claim of membership in a communion of saints. In other words, the more fallible the mammal, the truer the example.”

“My friend Ray Comfort has produced a powerful piece of media that leaves a lasting mark on your heart and mind. '180' is 33 minutes of video adrenaline, shock, and hope. As defenders of the unborn and messengers of the Gospel of Life, we need to see this video and share it with as many people as we can.”

“My friend’s companion animal is licking my face and my friend asks Could you be content anywhere? And I say Yes, I can be content anywhere, but then I think Is that true? Of course it’s easy to be content at my handsome friend’s beautiful house, by his heated pool, in what might be a physical manifestation of contentment if ever there was one. So I think it again on the subway, think it again writing emails, think it again, but alas sadly: No. It’s not true. I can’t be content here in my uncomfortable present, in my uncomfortable chair, on the uncomfortable subway, at this uncomfortable desk, in this uncomfortable classroom. But oddly, I am content to visit the past, to say Hello everything I’ve lost, to say I wish you could come here to the present, my lost companion trees. I wish you could meet everything I’ve found.”

“My friend's wiry arms were around me and he was leading me to the chair. "You're not hurt, Watson? For God's sake say that you're not hurt!" It was worth a wound -it was worth many wounds- to know the depth of loyalty and love which lay beyond that cold mask. The clear, hard eyes were dimmed for a moment, and the firm lips were shaking. For the one and only time I caught a glimpse of a great heart as well as of a great brain.”

“My friend says to me: But what can we do? Already giving up. To be aware is already something, I say. Consciousness rarely leaves us unmoved. Or unmoving. And so it is with this revelation of what has been happening to our children, all of them, and especially to our boys. The beast in so-called civilized man is more lethal, sinister, grotesque and cunning than I would have believed: And what is it, anyhow, this beast? How does it manifest in every age to plague our republic from shadows it projects as light?”

“My friend Scott Friedman (ScottFriedman.net) is a motivational humorist who specializes in employee engagement, celebration, and customer service. He teaches organizations that when their organizations are happy, they enjoy increased productivity, higher performance, better engagement, and elevated levels of health and well-being among their people. In his book, Happily Ever Laughter, Scott shares, “Personal stories are excellent (and entertaining) catalysts both for communicating big ideas and for presenting your most original humor. Better yet, stories let you provide more substance in less time. Jokes, on the other hand, have less reach substance-wise. Why? Because a joke is meant to entertain. A story, on the other hand, has inherent meaning. Stories allow the audience to get to know you, your imperfections, your flaws, and your foolishness. You can be vulnerable right there with audience watching. You can entertain, enlighten and teach all in the same effort.”