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O Quotes

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All O Quotes

“Oh, sure, one can overdo it, and our history is darkly stained with abortive religious movements inspired by messianic crackpots. But it appears to be a continuum: too much and you end up in the realm of a Jim Jones, David Koresh, or Charles Manson, all of whom were able to lead others into a maelstrom of paranoid delusion. In the cases of Jones and Koresh, one can only do armchair forensic psychiatry to try to guess their afflictions, but Manson, alive and well, is a diagnosed schizophrenic. However, if you get the metamagical thoughts and behaviors to the right extent and at the right time and place, then people might just get the day off from work on your birthday for a long time to come.”

“Oh sure, there was a gringo gulch where the sunbirds lived in the winter months. But if you avoided them, you might hook up with the small community of Margarita Road refugees: a group of wanderers from up north; a crazy Irish sailor; a few Italians; some young, fast-living kids from Mexico City; and one beautiful girl from Brazil. All in all, it was a nice place to stay—or hide, if that’s what you needed.”

“Oh sure, I have lots of fears. My job is to conquer my fears. The irony of being a performer is that I have huge insecurities. Each of us is responsible for what happens in our lives. When good things happen, we take ownership, but when bad things happen we often don't take responsibility. There are no mistakes or accidents. Consciousness is everything and all things begin with a thought. We are responsible for our own fate. We reap what we sow, we get what we give and we pull in what we put out.”

“Oh Susie, I often think that I will try to tell you how very dear you are, and how I'm watching for you, but the words won't come, though the tears will, and I sit down disappointed. Yet, darling, you know it all-- then why do I seek to tell you? I do not know. In thinking of those I love, my reason is all gone from me, and I do fear sometimes that I must make a hospital for the hopelessly insane, and chain myself up there so I won't injure you.”

“Oh, Séraphine," he purred, pushing his nose close to her jaw to inhale her righteous scent. "Who do you suppose sits in Parliament? Who makes the laws, runs the government of this great and lofty nation, hmm?" She hadn't bathed this morning, he could tell, and she smelled of herself: woman, sweat, sex. He licked across her cheek, tasting salt and pure saint, to her mouth. He bit her lips. Once, twice, a third time, wanting, craving.”

“Oh, thank you! Thank you," she chirped, surprising him by bounding across the room and clasping him tight for a quick hug. His arms hung heavy and loose at his sides during her gentle siege. Rothbury had enchanted exotic opera singers into returning to his bed time and again. He had warmed coldhearted courtesans into confessing their undying love and he had seduced a number of beautiful, feisty women who were just as fickle in picking their lovers as he was. But Charlotte's hug unsettled him, knocked him off balance, one might say. He didn't want her to let go. But he wouldn't dare bring up his arms to hold her either. Without a doubt he knew if he indulged himself, all he felt, all he thought, would be exposed in the warmth of his embrace. And then there would be no turning back. He would be bared, revealed, humiliated.”

“Oh! Thanks for the public service announcement about what not to do in college, Mr. Eighteen-year-old-frat-boy-with-eleventy-billion-'serious'-girlfriends-under-his-belt! Get in the fucking car. You're a mean drunk. You haven't seen me mean, mama's boy! I told you we're close! Yeah, so are me and my asshole! Doesn't mean I'm going to call it twice a day! You're a bitch! Take. Me. Home. I'd love to, if you'd get in the fucking car!”

“Oh that God would give me the thing which I long for! That before I go hence and am no more seen, I may see a people wholly devoted to God, crucified to the world, and the world crucified to them. A people truly given up to God in body, soul and substance! How cheerfully would I then say, 'Now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace.'”

“Oh that I could give any idea of the scene; of that sweet, sweet, good, good woman in all the radiant beauty of her youth and animation, with the red scar on her forehead of which she was conscious, and which we saw with grinding of our teeth- remembering whence and how it came; her loving kindness against our grim hate; her tender faith against all our fears and doubting; and we, knowing that so far as symbols went, she with all her goodness and purity and faith, was outcast from God.”