Here's me opening my wrists before breakfast, Christmas day, and here's you asking if it hurt. Here's where I choose between mea culpa and Why the hell should I tell you?
What does it mean when people applaud? Should I give 'em money? Say thank you? Lift my dress? The lack of applause - that I can respond to.
Why should I want to make anything up? Life's bad enough as it is without wanting to invent any more of it.
[E]ach of our voices has something unique to say. Not only should I not mold my life to the demands of external conformity; I can't even find the model by which to live outside myself. I can only find it within.
Regardless of whether I can shift my affections to another - and the heart, as you observed, is a notoriously fickle beast - the question remains: should I?
Should I push him or should I throw him?" Howie asks. "Do what comes naturally," I yelled back. "I don't know," he says. "This is a very unnatural thing.
I can again thy former light restore, Should I repent me: but once put out thy light, Thou cunning'st pattern of excelling nature, I know not where is that Promethean heat That can thy light relume.
Had I no eyes but ears, my ears would love. That inward beauty and invisible; Or were I deaf, thy outward parts would move each part in me that were but sensible: Though neither eyes nor ears, to hear nor see, yet should I be in love by touching thee. 'Say, that the sense of feeling were bereft me, and that I could not see, nor hear, nor touch, and nothing but the very smell were left me, yet would my love to thee be still as much; for from the stillitory of thy face excelling comes breath perfum'd that breedeth love by smelling.
A gun I had been brought down by a gun. It was practically comical. Cheaters, I thought. I’d spent my life focusing on hand to hand combat, learning to dodge fangs and powerful hands that could snap my neck. A gun? It was so… well, easy. Should I be insulted? I didn’t know. Did it matter? I didn’t know that either. All I knew in that moment was that I was going to die, regardless.
Should I tell him I'm not afraid of being hurt? I'm afraid of not being in control.
I haven’t prepared my speech yet,” I sighed and Tove stood up. “What should I say about him?” “Well, if you plan to say anything nice, you’re going to have to lie,” Tove muttered as he walked over to his closet.
I like words. And I always learn a few new ones when Father gets angry. I shouldn't neglect my education, now should I?
Almost halfway down the aisle, she saw someone she wasn't expecting, and she almost stumbled on her satin heels. Kingsley Martin stood at the end of a pew, his arms crossed. He was wearing a tuxedo as well. Just like any other guest. What was he doing here? He was supposed to be in Paris! He was supposed to be gone! He looked directly at Mimi. She heard his voice loud and clear in her head. Leave him. Why should I? What do you promise me? Nothing. And everything. A life of danger and adventure. A chance to be yourself. Leave him. Come with me.
Indeed — why should I not admit it? — in that moment, my heart was breaking.
On sober reflection, I find few reasons for publishing my Italian version of an obscure, neo-Gothic French version of a seventeenth century Latin edition of a work written in Latin by a German Monk toward the end of the fourteenth century...First of all, what style should I employ?
I don't want children. Why should I let some strange little monster into my life to destroy what to me is a perfect set-up?
Why should I be unhappy? Each parcel of my being is in full bloom.
Why should I try to make you believe the things I believe in?
Raymond Chandler managed to write about L.A. his whole career. Should I keep going writing about New York? Is that what I should be doing? Songwriting doesn't work that way.
I do not believe in abortion at will. I do not believe that if a woman just wants to have an abortion she should... I do believe if you have an abortion you are committing murder.
All these non-singing, non-dancing, wish-I-had-me-some-clothes fools who tell me my albums suck. Why should I pay any attention to them?
The world today doesn't make sense, so why should I paint pictures that do?
Why should I give you an interview? All you journalists are plagiarists.
People have tried to corner the market on being offended, corner the market on language and corner the market on opinion. Should I lose my job 'cause I offended somebody? No, of course not. Your life should never be affected by public opinion.
I thought I'd begin by reading a poem by Shakespeare, but then I thought, why should I? He never reads any of mine.
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