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W Quotes

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All W Quotes

“What do you think of when you think of mourning?' Jenny asks. The question snaps me back to attention. I answer without really thinking. "I guess 'Funeral Blues' by W.H. Auden. I think it was Auden. I suppose that's not very original.' 'I don't know it.' 'It's a poem.' 'I gathered.' 'I'm just clarifying. It's not a blues album.' Jenny ignores my swipe at her intelligence. 'Does your response need to be original? Isn't that what poetry is for, for the poet to express something so personal that it ultimately is universal?' I shrug. Who is Jenny, even new Jenny, to say what poetry is for? Who am I for that matter? 'Why do you thin of that poem in particular?' "Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone, / Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone, / Silence the pianos and with muffled drum / Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.' I learned the poem in college and it stuck.”

“What do you think science is? There is nothing magical about science. It is simply a systematic way for carefully and thoroughly observing nature and using consistent logic to evaluate results. So which part of that exactly do you disagree with? Do you disagree with being thorough? Using careful observation? Being systematic? Or using consistent logic?”

“What do you think that fish is?' Sam asked Astrid. She peered closely at the alleged fish. 'I think that's an example of Pesce inedibilis,' she said. 'Yeah?' Sam made a face. 'Do you think it's okay to eat?' Astrid sighed theatrically. 'Pesce inedibilis? Inedible? Joke, duh. Try to keep up, Sam, I made that really easy for you.' Sam smiled. 'You know, a real genius would have known I wouldn't get it. Ergo, you are not a real genius. Hah. That's right. I threw down an 'ergo.'' She gave him a pitying look. 'That's very impressive, Sam. Especially from a boy who has twenty-two different uses for the word 'dude.”

“What do you think the Devil is going to look like if he's around? Nobody is going to be taken in if he has a long, red, pointy tail. No. I'm semi-serious here. He will look attractive and he will be nice and helpful and he will get a job where he influences a great God-fearing nation and he will never do an evil thing... he will just bit by little bit lower standards where they are important. Just coax along flash over substance... Just a tiny bit. And he will talk about all of us really being salesmen. And he'll get all the great women.”

“What do you think this very difficult situation will push? Especially in the hearts of those who are facing the starvation, facing the unemployment, facing this siege, facing the tragedy of their families - the poverty of their families. Some of them, they didn't find food to eat. What do you expect from them? In spite of death, our people are still patient. But patience has limits.”

“What do you think was the reason this universe sprung all of a sudden into existence from nothing? It was curiosity. What do you think was the reason why time was finally set into motion? It was curiosity. And why did the first single cell life appear on Earth? It was nothing but curiosity. It is curiosity, my dear friend, which is driving this whole universe.”

“What do you think would happen if we kissed right here, right now?" he asks, digging his hands into the pockets of his khaki pants, grinning right back at me. "I think it would cause a riot." "Well, you know me," he says, lowering his head towards me. "Causing a riot is what I do best." Santangelo approaches before Griggs gets any closer and pulls him away. "Are you guys insane?" he says, irritated. "It's called peaceful coexistence, Santangelo. You should try it and if it works we may sell the idea to the Israelis and Palestinians," I say, throwing his own words back at him.”

“What do you think you know about me!? This is all I am! I have high hopes even though I'm powerless; I have all these dreams even though I'm dumb; I keep trying even though I can't do anything! I hate myself! I'm always nothing but talk! I'm worse than useless, but I'm still a world-class complainer! Who the hell do I think I am?! How dare I live such a shameful life this long?! I'm empty. I've got nothing inside me. Until I came here, until I met all of you, do you know what I was doing?! I wasn't doing anything. I didn't do anything... I didn't do one little thing! With all that time to do it! With all that freedom! I should have done lots of stuff, but I didn't do any of it! And this is the result! The man I am now is the result! I'm powerless, talentless, and all of it, all of it, is because of my rotten personality! I want to achieve something when I haven't done anything before--conceited doesn't even begin to describe it... I was lazy and imposed on other people; I wasted my whole life away; I killed you. I thought I could live here, but not a single thing's changed about me. That old man saw right through me, didn't he? During those days of training, the old man had spoken of those who wield the sword, but he had shaken his head and said, 'There is little point lecturing someone about what it takes to become stronger when he has already abandoned the choice to do so.' It's not like I really thought I'd get stronger or I'd be able to do anything... I just went through the motions. I was just a poser trying to justify myself. I wanted to say, I couldn't help it! I wanted other people to say it couldn't be helped! That's all it was! That's the only reason I pretended to put myself on the line like that! Even when you were helping me study, I was just putting on a show to cover up the embarrassment! I'm a small, underhanded, filthy guy down to the bone, always worrying about what other people think of me, and none of that's ever changed!”

“What do you think you’ll lose?” “I don’t know.” I check your amber eyes for signs of impatience, but you don’t seem mad. Just curious. “I’ll never make you tell me anything you don’t want to tell me,” you say. “But you are right, Callie. Sometimes it will feel like you’re losing something.” I reach for another tissue. Wet, wadded-up tissues keep piling up in my lap. “But Callie,” you say. “If we work hard, you’ll find something much better to take the place of whatever you give up. I promise.”

“What do you think you’re doing?” She snapped, watching Alessandro pull back the covers and pull his legs in under the blankets. “I’m going to sleep, darling. I don’t think any amorous advances would be welcome tonight seeing as you’re in a bit of a snit, so ’night, darling.” “Get out of this bed, right now or so help me, I will do something to you that will severely compromise your ability to father any more children.” “Ah, so you admit that there will be more children for us?” He gave her a small smile. Bree came up on her elbows and narrowed her eyes. “Alessandro, go back to your coffee table.” “No.” “What do you mean, no? I’m furious with you. I don’t want to sleep with you, now get out,” “Let me put it another way, Sunshine,” he reached over and tapped her nose playfully. “Not bloody hardly. I am paying for this room and that includes this bed.” “Fine. Then I’ll go somewhere else,” Bree said, kicking the blanket off of her. Alessandro reached out a long leg and hooked it around one of hers, trapping her. “If you don’t want me to tie you to this bed, you’ll stay where you are. And you know how much I’d enjoy that.”

“What do you think? Does everything look right? " " You really expect me to look at anything but you? " She laughed even as her pulse jittered. " Boy, I must be in bad shape when a shopworn line like that hits the mark. " " I mean it, " he said and watched her smile fade. " I adore looking at you. " Laying a hand on her knees with a long, slow, thorough kiss. " Beautiful Margo. mine. " " Well, you're certainly taking my mind off my ... kiss me again. " " Glad to.”

“What do you think? Who are these people who have depicted heaven as a playboy Club - who are these people? Starved, poor, who have missed their life - they are projecting their desires in heaven. In heaven there are rivers of wine... who are these people who are imagining rivers of wine? They must have missed here. And there are wish-fulfilling trees. You sit underneath them, desire, and the moment you desire, immediately it is fulfilled.”

“What do you think?" he asked, his voice deep and commanding. I eyed him. "Impressive, but too much." He leaned toward me, the blue eyes smoky with a promise I was shure he could fulfill. I tried not to think of the bedroom. "Too much?" "Yes. I like the menace. It's very masculine, but he looks like he would screw everything in sight and call me 'wench”

“What do you think?" he asks. "I hate them," I say. I can almost smell the blood, the dirt, the unnatural breath of the mutt. "All I do is go around trying to forget the arena and you've brought it back to life. How do you remember these things so exactly?" "I see them every night," he says.”

“What do you typically like to do on a first date with a woman?" "That answer depends on the woman, since you're not all the same. Some women actually would enjoy beer and pool on a Friday night"---he stopped to give her a raised brow to emphasize his statement---"while others would want to have dinner at a nice restaurant. Some might want to hang out at home, order pizza and watch a movie just so we could talk and get to know each other. Another woman might be more interested in going to see a basketball game. Or maybe go to a museum." "And you'd be interested in doing any of those things." He shrugged. "I'm interested in doing a lot of different things. I'm not just a rancher. I like to get out of my element and learn something new." She stared at him. Dammit. She loved that answer. He really thought about what a woman might want to do. And he was open to new experiences. A lot of guys just did their own thing, expecting the woman to fall in line. "That's...very nice.”