There's something that doesn't make sense. Let's go and poke it with a stick.
It is forgetting, not remembering, that is the essence of what makes us human. To make sense of the world, we must filter it. "To think," Borges writes, "is to forget.
Annabeth frowned. "That doesn't make sense. But why were you visiting --" Her eyes widened. "Hermes said you bear the curse of Achilles. Hestia said the same thing. Did you . . . did you bathe in the River Styx?" "Don't change the subject." "Percy! Did you or not?" "Um . . .maybe a little.
If you know you're the best it only makes sense for you to surround yourself with the best.
I am not going to say you are right because I could not take it if you smirked." "I do not smirk," Vikirnoff claimed. "Yes, you do. And I detest that after all these centuries, you are making sense. Frankly, its scary." "It is only that you are not making sense sunce you acquired a lifemate. I hope that does not happen to all men. It would be a shame." "Your sense of humor is not improving," Nicolae pointed out dryly. "I do not have a sense of humor." Vikirnoff answered. "I had not noticed," Nicolae teased.
When something terrible happens, a lifetime of small events and unremarkable decisions, of unresolved anger, and unexplored fears begins to play itself out in ways you least expect. You've been going along from one day to the next, not realizing that all those disparate words and gestures were adding up to something, a conclusion, you didn't anticipate. And later, when you begin to retrace your steps you see that you will need to reach back further than you could have imagined, beyond words and thoughts and even dreams, perhaps to make sense of what happened.
Dreams change, yes, that makes sense, but I didn't know dreams could hide inside a person.
History was easy, but I don't know about the Calculus. It seemed like it was making sense, so that probably means I failed.
...she wanted God to make sense. He doesn't. He will make no more sense to me than I will make sense to an ant.
I want to make a world more magical than my own. I don't care if it makes sense, I don't care if it's ridiculed or if, rather than a neat round planet that goes around forever, it ends with a cliff that falls off into nothing. I want to have my eyes wide open, and I want to see this room and at the same time, not this room.
Legends don't have to make sense. They just have to be beautiful. Or at least interesting.
I can't be any more addicted to it than I already am,"Jamie said slowly, as though he'd rehearsed this, and then waiting for a cue Nick obviously had no intention of giving." Think about crack!" Jamie added, clearly struck by insperation. "Yes! It's like I'm a crack addict, and you're my friend the drug dealer who gives me crack for free, and I know you're just trying to be a good friend, but every time I think 'Wow, this crack might be a little bit of a problem for me,' you're there to say, 'Have some more delicious crack.' Am I making sense?" Nick stared."Hardly ever in your life.
Sophie held the [hand]cuffs higher, hopint to instill some sense of shame, if not in him, then at least in herself. One look at him and she wanted him again. "I found them in the bed." "That makes sense," Phin said. "That's where I lost them." "I'd ask what you were doing with them," Sophie said, trying not to sound bitchy, "but I probably don't want to know, do I?" "Sure you do. It was exciting and different and depraved." Phin nodded toward the stairs. "Go put them someplace we can find them, and I'll show you later.
Memory is a funny thing. It tricks you into believing that you've forgotten important moments, and then when you're raking your brain for a bit of information that might make sense of something else, it taps you on the head and says, "Remember when you told me to put that memory in the green rubbish bin? Well, I didn't, I put it in the black recycling tub, and it's coming your way again.
I didn't expect a knife, though. Is it the one missing from the kitchen?" "Did Rand report it?" I felt betrayed. Why hadn't he just asked for it back? "No. It just makes sense to keep track of large kitchen knives, so when one goes missing you're not surprised when someone attacks you with it.
Everything in this business makes sense, because it serves a real purpose, fills a need that's a part of living. Even a single nail, like this one, fulfills a function. Drive it into a crucial place and you can depend on it to do a job, keep on doing it for a hundred years to come. Long after we're dead and gone, both of us.
She might not know what your routine is, but I do,” I said softly. “So put the lantern down. You’re not burning me yet, and we both know it.” “What’s she saying?” Sarah demanded, hobbling over. His white brows drew together, and I allowed a little smile to play on my lips. “Awfully bossy with you, isn’t she? Then again, it makes sense. She’s got the pants on, and you’re the one in the dress.
The true meaning of courage is to be afraid, and then, with your knees knocking and your heart racing, to step out anyway—even when that step makes sense to nobody but you. I know that’s not easy. But making a bold move is the only way to truly advance toward the grandest vision the universe has for you.
Don't worry about what you're writing or whether it's good or even whether it makes sense.
Mr False Pretence, you don't make sense I just don't know you But you make me cry, where's my kiss goodbye I think I love you
Having their feelings make sense is how people get their kicks.
Time is a wind that keeps blowing in my face and mumbling words that don't make sense.
The world's a puzzle; no need to make sense out of it." - Socrates
I know what I really want for Christmas. I want my childhood back. Nobody is going to give me that. I might give at least the memory of it to myself if I try. I know it doesn't make sense, but since when is Christmas about sense, anyway? It is about a child, of long ago and far away, and it is about the child of now. In you and me. Waiting behind the door of or hearts for something wonderful to happen. A child who is impractical, unrealistic, simpleminded and terribly vulnerable to joy.
You cannot win in a fight against women, cause men have a need to make sense
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