People never like me and I never like people
Picture this," said Magnus. "Me with a little monkey friend. I could teach him tricks. I could dress him in a cunning jacket. He could look just like me! But more monkey-shaped.
He has, like me, a sense of smell. I let him inhale me, then I slip away.
I told her, "We have both lost ourselves, but sometimes we reveal the most when we are least like ourselves. I am not trying to think any more. I can't think when I am with you. You are like me, wishing for a perfect moment, but nothing too long imagined can be perfect in a worldly way. Neither one of us can say just the right thing. We are overwhelmed. Let us be overwhelmed. It is so lovely, so lovely. I love you June.
Or maybe I’d lost my soul already. I doubted God let someone like me keep any gift from him. It was highly likely I’d been born without one.
But what I really long to know you do not tell either: what you feel, although I've given you hints by the score of my regard. You like me. You wouldn't waste time or paper on a being you didn't like. But I think I've loved you since we met at your mother's funeral. I want to be with you forever and beyond, but you write that you are too young to marry or too old or too short or too hungry - until I crumple your letters up in despair, only to smooth them out again for a twelfth reading, hunting for hidden meanings.
I'm here because they've killed almost all of us, but not all of us. And that's their mistake, son. That's the flaw in their plan. Because if you don't kill all of us at once, whoever's left are not going to be the weak ones. The strong ones- and only the strong ones- will survive. The bent but unbroken, if you know what I mean. People like me. And people like you.
That's why you like me!' I exclaim. 'Because you're not nice either! It makes so much more sense now.' 'Come on,' he says. 'We're going to see Johanna.' 'I like you, too.' 'That's encouraging,' he replies flatly. 'Come on. Oh for God's sake. I'll just carry you.
Honestly, he acted as though he didn't like me anymore. Wait, maybe he didn't. "Do you still like me?" "I never liked you." Oh, right. He had a point. Garreth & Charley
I began to understand that there were certain talkers - certain girls - whom people liked to listen to, not because of what they, the girls, had to say, but because of the delight they took in saying it. A delight in themselves, a shine on their faces, a conviction that whatever they were telling about was remarkable and that they themselves could not help but give pleasure. There might be other people - people like me - who didn't concede this, but that was their loss. And people like me would never be the audience these girls were after, anyway.
Gene told me the next day that I got it wrong. But he was not in a taxi, after an evening of total sensory overload, with the most beautiful woman in the world. I believed I did well. I detected the trick question. I wanted Rosie to like me, and I remembered her passionate statement about men treating women as objects. She was testing to see if I saw her as an object or as a person. Obviously the correct answer was the latter. ‘I haven’t really noticed,’ I told the most beautiful woman in the world.
Eleanor,” he said, just because he liked saying it, “why do you like me?” “I don’t like you.” He waited. And waited… Then he started to laugh. “You’re kind of mean,” he said. “Don’t laugh. It just encourages me.
I think you're still the only person sharp enough to sharpen someone like me.
I wanted a girl as perfect as Brooke, and instead, she gave me something I never knew I wanted: something perfect that looks like me.
All I have to do is be the best Al I can be, because I'm good enough, I'm smart enough and, doggone it, people like me.
Would you like me to give you a formula for success? It's quite simple, really. Double your rate of failure.
I love you and I forgive you. I am like you and you are like me. I love all people. I love the world. I love creating. Everything in our life should be based on love.
There are going to be moments today you don't like me. You'll get over it.
~[My daughter is] very artistic, but she's also a perfectionist. I feel a little bad: That's the part I see in her that's like me - and you don't want them to have that at age 5.~
Any human being is really good at certain things. The problem is that the things you're good at come naturally. And since most people are pretty modest instead of an arrogant S.O.B. like me, what comes naturally, you don't see as a special skill. It's just you. It's what you've always done.
None of the characters I`ve played are really like me. That would be boring. It wouldn`t be acting.
I've learned to take time for myself and to treat myself with a great deal of love and respect, because I like me.. I think I'm kind of cool.
Nobody can be exactly like me. Sometimes even I have trouble doing it.
If there are two hundred people in a room and one of them doesn't like me, I've got to get out.
For someone like me, who loves to sweat and push herself, it's a challenge to slow down, to sit, to breathe and hold poses.
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