But a knife ain't just a thing, is it? It's a choice, it's something you do. A knife says yes or no, cut or not, die or don't. A knife takes a decision out of your hand and puts it in the world and it never goes back again.
I know electric knives are excellent for carving turkeys that have had their bones removed and been forced into a mold to shape them. Please note that those turkeys are called hams.
Playing without the fundamentals is like eating without a knife and fork. You make a mess.
It cuts like a knife, but it feels so right.
Soon, the viewer won't even know if he's watching on broadcast or the Internet. He'll just be eating his cereal and see an image on the spoon. That's how we'll be watching soon, on spoons. The commercials will be on the knives.
A doctor once told me that with crying you aren't sure what its derivation is. If someone comes at you with a knife, you don't cry: you scream, you try to run. When it's over and you're OK, that's when you cry.
Heaven has fashioned a knife of irony to stab me with.
The only truly intersting side of the matter was the intimate design of the injury, the fact that it was so penetrating, custom-made exactly to your measure. It's fascinating that hatred should be so personal as to be almost loving. The knife and the wound aching for each other.
We were taught to be dependable, responsible, the top of our classes at school, the most organized and efficient babysitters in town, the very miniature models of our hardworking farmer/nurse mother, a pair of junior Swiss Army knives, born to multitask.
It (broadcast journalism) is a brutal arena where the knives are sharp and the toughest Kevlar vest in the world will not protect you forever.
I am not the sharpest knife in the knife-thing
When someone holds a knife to your throat it's easy to be scared. It's not hard to imagine what it would be like.
I remember many a time, going into someplace like Wrigley Field - where you could cut the humidity with a knife - and playing a doubleheader. I loved to play the game. It didn't matter if it was a doubleheader, or a single game, or a day game after a night game. I wanted to play.
In Hollywood, they put the knife in your front; in D.C., they put it in your back. I found far fewer duplicitous people in Hollywood.
Training is such a vital part of preparation for a game, you really do train to play. It tops up your ability, like sharpening a carving knife. You can get away with not doing it for a while, as long as you have reached a certain standard of fitness.
I had a stalker who was extremely violent. He broke into the studio with knives and I was locked in a bathroom.
We've been slaves to our tools since the first caveman made the first knife to help him get his supper. After that there was no going back, and we built till our machines were ten million times more powerful than ourselves. We gave ourselves cars when we might have learned to run; we made airplanes when we might have grown wings; and then the inevitable. We made a machine our God.
I am like a doctor. I have written a prescription to help the patient. If the patient doesn't want all the pills I've recommended, that's up to him. But I must warn that next time I will have to come as a surgeon with a knife.
I try not to get too rattled about things that aren't that important - there's a different outburst for when the kids are reaching for a knife in the kitchen versus the reaction I have when they just won't stop talking. And my wife and I have mellowed out as we've gone along.
We know they have nothing to do with Islam because our politicians keep telling us that, and they are all Islamic scholars. (They are, aren't they?) Yes, the violence is coming exclusively from Muslims, but only because their religion (the one that has nothing to do with Islam) tells them to kill unbelievers, meaning people who don't follow the religion with a knife to our throat that has nothing to do with Islam.
I haven't got a car or a house. I've got a wife, but I didn't pay for her! I spend all my money on my glorious wife. She's here with a knife at my throat!
Champagne had the taste of an apple peeled with a steel knife.
I think I'm probably much better at the boots and pocket knife thing than I am at the high heels and martini thing.
Reading those turgid philosophers here in these remote stone buildings may not get you a job, but if those books have forced you to ask yourself questions about what makes life truthful, purposeful, meaningful, and redeeming, you have the Swiss Army Knife of mental tools, and it's going to come in handy all the time.
A gun can be dangerous. But a gun can protect you, you can hunt for food with it - you know, the tool itself is a tool. The intention of the party using the tool is a part of the process, right? You know: the knife cuts the steak, stabs the person, saves somebody from danger, cuts somebody out of a car.
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