I want to return to the NBA this season, and help any team that wants me, in any capacity that they feel that I can help. I'm disappointed.
I want to make the United States great again. This country is a hell-hole. We are going down fast and I'm a conservative but I have a big heart. I will take care of people, but a lot of people want me to run, and we'll see what happens.
There are some people who want me and my husband to stay where it is safe and draw a paycheck every week instead of what we are doing (which is creating and sharing our art with others). The truth is that there are people in this world - Dave and I being two - who would die a slow painful death if stuck in an office and made to do the kind of work that we are not made to do.
I ask two questions when I am confronting life on a moment to moment basis when something important is happening. (1) What is factually happening right now? (2) What does my soul know about this and want me to know about this? It is amazing that when I give myself 20-25 seconds to seriously consider these questions, almost instantly I will arrive at a deeper awareness and a richer understanding of what is happening right now - from the soul's level of awareness.
You want me to sneak up on an angel and rip out its pinfeathers, so you can make a fashion statement?
If my boss knew how unproductive I am on Fridays, he wouldn't want me here either.
I told my wife the other day, I'm the Halle Berry of the NBA. Everybody wants this, baby. Everybody wants me.
It’s just … everything. There are too many people. And I don’t fit in. I don’t know how to be. Nothing that I’m good at is the sort of thing that matters there. Being smart doesn’t matter—and being good with words. And when those things do matter, it’s only because people want something from me. Not because they want me.
I loved to teach, I loved my students, but I wanted to find a community. I prayed: "Lord, show me where you want me to go. I will go wanted wherever you call me - but please be clear."
I can't talk about Kathy [Jeung] anymore, because she doesn't want me to talk about her, and I'm not even sure that it's an ongoing relationship.
From 1940 to about 1960, I had been writing just regular comics, the way my publishers wanted me too. He didn't want me to use words of more than two syllables if I could help it. He didn't want me to waste time on worrying about good dialogue or characterization. Just give me a lot of action, lot of fight scenes.
As soon as I walk out that door, you're gonna decide you want me back. You might even tell yourself that you're in love with me. But you're not. You never will be.
Everything is in it: the promise and the hope and the fear and the challenge and the defiance. The test is a double test: Just as God tested Abraham, Abraham tested God: "Let's see if you really want me to go ahead with it and kill my son." Then the angel says, "Do not raise your hand against the boy" [Genesis 22:12]. It was the Angel of God who says this, not God. God was embarrassed. [All laugh]
Blaire, tell me what you want me to do. I’ll do whatever it is you need.
I’m serious about you, Avery. If you want me for real, you have me.
I saw Dad's eyes widen just a fraction when he heard my voice catch. He glanced at me but quickly turned away. He didn't want me to see his reaction, but I did, and I'll never forget it. In that brief glimpse, I could see what he was thinking behind that fixed stare. There would be no grandkids, there would be no more Creed family bloodline, nothing else to look forward to. From that point on I'd become the last, most devastating disappointment in what he thought his life had added up to--one overwhelming failure.
Sydney: "You can be Jet if you want, but we are not posing as a couple again" Adrian: "Are you sure? Because I've got a lot more terms of endearment to use. Honey pie. Sugarplum. Bread pudding." Sydney: "Why are they all high-calorie foods? And bread pudding isn't really that romantic." Adrian: "Do you want me to call you celery stick instead? It just doesn't inspire the same warm and fuzzy feelings." - The Indigo Spell
I love you. I'm not sure if it's the way you want me to. I think it might be. But I know that I love you. I absolutely love you.
Will you still want me if I'm poor, Kat?" "What kind of question is that?" "No. Seriously. You're the planner. Simon's the genius. The Bagshaws are the muscle. And Gabrielle is . . . Gabrielle. But what am I, Kat? I'm the guy who writes the checks." "No. You're the most naturally gifted inside man I have ever seen. And I was raised by Bobby Bishop." She made him look into her eyes. "I don't care about your money.
Have I ever told you how sexy your brain is?" "Finally! A man who wants me for my brain." "I want all of you. Each individual part and the sum of them all. I want you for everything you are and everything you will ever be. I will never have enough of you, because there's no such thing." He stared right into my eyes, and I couldn't have looked away if I'd wanted to. I was trapped, and never in my life had I been so happy to be caught. "I will never let you go again.
….he grabs my wrists and pins my arms up above my head, locking them in one hand. "Are you mine?" he asks gruffly, as his hand returns between my thighs and briefly enters me. I gasp. Undone. Delirious. "I'm yours." His expression is tense, ravenous, so hot as he scrapes his finger deep into my channel. "Do you want me inside you?" My need clogs my windpipe as pleasure shoots down my legs. "I want you everywhere. All over me. Inside me.
Honey, I've watched a lot of 90210. The parents weren't even on the show once Brandon and Brenda went to college. This is your time - you're supposed to going to frat parties and getting back together with Dylan." "Why does everybody want me to go to frat parties?" "Who wants you to go to frat parties? I was just kidding. Don't hang out with frat guys, Cath, they're terrible. All they do is get drunk and watch 90210.
For the rest of my life?" His voice softens. "Do you want that, Ella May? Do you want me eternally, infinitely, forever, till death do us part?
"I don't like this," he said. "I don't like knowing you can't forgive me, Claire. Please, I said I was sorry, what do you want me to do? Beg? I will. I'll get on my knees right here if you want."
You hardly know me. Why do you want me to come with you?’ ‘Who knows? Perhaps you remind me just a bit of -‘ ‘Someone you used to know?’ Alec interjected skeptically. ‘Someone I used to be.
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