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Cool Quotes

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Cool Quotes

“No, cool is fine," he said. "Yes, it's a cool place. It was much cooler seven years ago, and it was actually cool ten years ago, before I even got to the city. You see, what those kids over there"—he pointed at the empty booth—"don't realize is that cool is always past tense. The people who lived it, who set the standards they emulate, there was no cool for them. There was just the present tense: there were bills, friendships, messy fucking, fucking boredom, a million trite decisions on how to pass the time. Self-awareness destroys it. You call something cool and you brand it. Then—poof—it's gone. It's just nostalgia.”

“The sea may catch fire, the planets may collide in space, the sun may quench off its heat, but what we understand is that our peace is like a river in our souls; it's surface may wave about in turbulence, but it's bottom is cool and gently calm!”

“What a strange thing it is to wake up to a milk-white overcast June morning! The sun is hidden by a thick cotton blanket of clouds, and the air is vapor-filled and hazy with a concentration of blooming scent. The world is somnolent and cool, in a temporary reprieve from the normal heat and radiance. But the sensation of illusion is strong. Because the sun can break through the clouds at any moment . . . What a soft thoughtful time. In this illusory gloom, like a night-blooming flower, let your imagination bloom in a riot of color.”

“Wherever Cool is, anyway, I missed it, and now I'm stuck observing these machinations or sex and status and dancing and parties and people sucking at each other under the bleacher seating like some kind of freak, when I'm not the freak; Rich is the freak. Clearly. When I grow up, that had better be understood and I had better be compensated, or I'm going to shoot myself in the head.”

“Sam?” “Yeah.” “I was on the school bus that day. Remember?” “Vaguely,” he said, and laughed. “My fifteen minutes of fame.” “You were the bravest, coolest person I’d ever known. Everyone thought so. You were the hero of the whole school. And then, I don’t know. It was like you kind of just…faded.” He resented that a little. He hadn’t faded. Had he? “Well, most days the bus driver doesn’t have a heart attack,” Sam said. Astrid laughed. “You’re one of those people, I think. You go along in your life just sort of living. And then something goes wrong and there you are. You step up and do what you have to do. Like today, the fire.” “Yeah, well, to tell you the truth, I kind of prefer the other part. The part where I just live my life.” Astrid nodded like she understood, but then she said, “That’s not going to happen this time.”

“A person who is truly cool is a work of art. And remember, original works of art cost exponentially higher than imitations. Just take a look at the the coolest people in history. They will always be a part of history for being extremely original individuals, not imitations.”

“I do not recall our Lord ever saying one could not be 'cool'. It is only a problem if one esteems 'coolness' above that which is righteous and true, which is, when we give it its way, really what many of us do. 'Coolness' is too transient to be of any real and meaningful, lasting significance, and it is often in great conflict with one being one's most honest, most vulnerable self. That, and in reality, some of the coolest people are actually those who least concern themselves with being cool anyway, those who make 'trying to be cool' less evident.”

“I have a message for your daughter,” said Cale. “I am bound to her with cables that not even God can break. One day, if there is a soft breeze on her cheek, it may be my breath; one night, if the cool wind plays with her hair, it may be my shadow passing by.” And with this terrible threat he faced forward and the procession started once more. In less than a minute they were gone. In her shady room Arbell Swan-Neck stood white and cold as alabaster.”

“Desmond Coolwater is a well dressed, young prestigious ivy league gentleman and dabbling misogynist with a key to the metropolitan Denver nightlife as well as a job with a local, yet well known magazine as an entertainment / advertising executive. He knows how to make money marketing and beguiling women, but he is about take losses on a level that he’s not accustomed to and in order to overcome losing his job, nearly losing his father and the possibility for love with the right woman he will have to reinvent cool.”

“We can find better adjectives than cool, and not glorify someone's temperature setting. There is a wise tenderness that will find the empathetic, not through expectation or demand. The lameness and weakness no longer feared, and the feminine hygiene products (douche) not used to describe a man's character or likeness. A douche is used before a surgery, a device born of dire necessity. The word neurotic has it's net, and perhaps soon all these disturbing word-nets will be retired, and the hurt and disturbance will be forgotten through bliss and peace. All language and all pain stops, no words there to cause pain. Sweet forgetfulness.”

“A redhead lied in a hospital like a vegetable, eyes pure white and limbs unmoving. An ex-basketball player gripped her hand as he sobbed uncontrollably, despite knowing full well she couldn’t feel a thing. He waited for the monster to take him too as the clock chimed. A man they’d grown to know as their babysitter lied still on the ground, limbs twisted up like a pretzel. A beautiful girl with a brilliant mind had her eyes rolled back into her skull, her body bent in various ways. A man who got lost along the way sat against the wall, waiting for the drugs to finish him off. A friend with hair longer than anyone else’s joined him, cause he wouldn’t let him be alone. A curly haired boy soon meets the same fate as his brother; bats rip into his body until nothing is left. A boy with a heart too big for his body lies still until he bleeds out; he’d rather take himself off the board then let the villain have his way. A boy, once so sweet and gentle, got overwhelmed with his rage and joined the other side. A town got corrupted, and everything began to die.”

“The beast tried to break free, swatting at the primarch, grasping at air. Its bat-like wings unfurled, the talons at their tips, scratching gouges in Sanguinius’s armour. With cold and lethal precision, the primarch arrested the wild, beating motion of one of the freakish wings with his free hand. ‘Only angels may fly,’ he said darkly, tearing out the black pinion. The sound was like the splitting of a great sack-cloth sail, and the daemon Ka’Bandha screamed loud enough to shake the walls. Warpfire gushed from the stump of the wing and it shuddered in agony, a sensation it had only known previously from the cries of its enemies.”

“What's the difference between people who see and seek gaps and those that see and seek bridges? The first stops and stays on the side. The second, crosses and reaches new worlds. As soon as your mind identifies the bridge, the gap is gone...but the bridge was always there...you just had to see it. There are holes in the ground, yet a bridge (which is there, but may take time to see) filled it. That's where asking better questions comes in. Where is the bridge so I can cross? There is one. Believing there is a bridge from where you are to where you want to go is 99% of the battle. The other 1% is to cross it. But do I have to build the bridge? Maybe. But everything is first created in the mind and then in the world. The bridge is there. See it. Cross it.”