Afshar Rug Quotes

A cocktail party is what you call it when you invite everyone you know to come over to your house at six p.m., put cigarettes out on your rug, and leave at eight to go somewhere more interesting for dinner without inviting you. ~ P. J. O'Rourke

If gun laws in fact worked, the sponsors of this type of legislation should have no difficulty drawing upon long lists of examples of criminal acts reduced by such legislation. That they cannot do so after a century and a half of trying - that they must sweep under the rug the southern attempts at gun control in the 1870-1910 period, the northeastern attempts in the 1920-1939 period, the attempts at both Federal and State levels in 1965-1976 - establishes the repeated, complete and inevitable failure of gun laws to control serious crime. ~ Orrin Hatch

Manage me, I am a mess, swept under the rug of yesterday's home improvement, a whimsical urge tossed aside for the easy reassurance of home and comfort. I am the photograph tucked away as a book-mark, in a book left half unread, once reopened to find memories crawling back into peripheral sight, faded, creased and lonely. I long to be admired, long to be held, torn and laughed at, laughed with, like a distant relative or an old friend breathing in their last breath. I missed the moment when time collapsed and memory was erased, replaced by finicky social experiments, lost in the blur of intoxication, sucked through multi-colored bendy-straws, making way for a spinning world where hub-caps stood still, but our vision didn't. If I could leave you with only one thing, it would be small, foldable, and made from trees, with a few careless words, scribbled in blue; Take a minute to learn me, take a moment to love me, because I need your love to live,and without it, I am nothing. ~ Alex Gaskarth

We had hoped to have been bringing you Arthur the Human Chameleon, but this afternoon, he crawled across a tartan rug and died of exhaustion. ~ Ronnie Barker

Sitting cross-legged on the rug, puffing on a pipe, wearing a fat gold Rolex on his wrist, Khamenei asked the colonel, If we were to release all of you now, without any conditions, how long would it be before you could begin to supply us again with spare parts for our military forces? ~ Mark Bowden

Puppy presents on the rug. This sucked. ~ Kim Harrison

The key to happiness is under the doorstep rug. ~ Ljupka Cvetanova

Ultimately, I hoped the tiny-house guy was similar to me: a sane person without a big agenda, who simply wanted a way to make sense of the world, to create a new map with a big X in the middle labeled "Home," even if that meant shrinking his world down to the size of an area rug. ~ Dee Williams

The windows were ajar and gleaming white against the fresh grass outside that seemed to grow a little way into the house. A breeze blew through the room, blew curtains in at one end and out the other like pale flags, twisting them up toward the frosted wedding-cake of the ceiling, and then rippled over the wine-colored rug, making a shadow on it as wind does on the sea. The only completely stationary object in the room was an enormous couch on which two young women were buoyed up as though upon an anchored balloon. They were both in white, and their dresses were rippling and fluttering as if they had just been blown back in after a short flight around the house. ~ F Scott Fitzgerald

When Your Small Form Tumbled into Me"

I lay sprawled like a big-game rug across the bed:
Belly down, legs wishbone-wide. It was winter.
Workaday. Your father swung his feet to the floor.
The kids upstairs dragged something back and forth
On shrieking wheels. I was empty, blown-through
By whatever swells, swirling, and then breaks
Night after night upon that room. You must have watched
For what felt like forever, wanting to be
What we passed back and forth between us like fire.
Wanting weight, desiring desire, dying
To descend into flesh, fault, the brief ecstasy of being.
From what dream of world did you wriggle free?
What soared - and what grieved - when you aimed your will
At the yes of my body alive like that on the sheets? ~ Tracy K. Smith

All of us cherish our beliefs. They are, to a degree, self-defining. When someone comes along who challenges our belief system as insufficiently well based - or who, like Socrates, merely asks embarrassing questions that we haven't thought of, or demonstrates that we've swept key underlying assumptions under the rug - it becomes much more than a search for knowledge. It feels like a personal assault. ~ Carl Sagan

Mr. Stegall has birthed a very important book that will help us as a people go to the next level. This book is very important because it's tackling issues that many brush under the rug. Mr. Stegall has proven that he's been given a message that the world should hear and this book is proof of that. Because of his insight and wisdom, this book will reach areas and points that other books around this topic have not. This is definitely a book we need! ~ Tony A. Gaskins Jr.

I think it's keeping a surprise element, so that the audience never gets ahead of you. I like to pull the rug out from audiences, I don't like for them to think they know what's happening next. ~ Jason Graae

In LA, you can't do anything unless you drive. Now I can't do anything unless I drink. And the drink-drive combination, it really isn't possible out there. If you so much as loosen your seatbelt or drop your ash or pick your nose, then it's an Alcatraz autopsy with the questions asked later. Any indiscipline, you feel, any variation, and there's a bullhorn, a set of scope sights, and a coptered pig drawing a bead on your rug.
So what can a poor boy do? You come out of the hotel, the Vraimont. Over boiling Watts the downtown skyline carries a smear of God's green snot. You walk left, you walk right, you are a bank rat on a busy river. This restaurant serves no drink, this one serves no meat, this one serves no heterosexuals. You can get your chimp shampooed, you can get your dick tattooed, twenty-four hour, but can you get lunch? And should you see a sign on the far side of the street flashing BEEF-BOOZE – NO STRINGS, then you can forget it. The only way to get across the road is to be born there. All the ped-xing signs say DON'T WALK, all of them, all the time. That is the message, the content of Los Angeles: don't walk. Stay inside. Don't walk. Drive. Don't walk. Run! ~ Martin Amis

I believe, but cannot prove, that global "AIDS" is a whole cluster of unrelated diseases all of which have been swept under a single rug for essentially political reasons, and that the identification of HIV as the sole pathogen is likely to go down as one of the most colossal blunders in the history of medicine. ~ Eric S. Raymond

That is what the past was, that which you could not get rid of. The past did not resemble the crumbs spilled over a rug. You could not shake them out from open windows. ~ Elif Shafak

A broom that was almost never used was leaned up against the wall. He took it and started to sweep. Dust flew up his nose. When he had been sweeping for a while he realised he had no dustpan. He swept the pile of dust under the couch. Better to have a little shit in the corners than a clean hell. He flipped through the pages of a porno, put it back. Wound his scarf around his neck until his head felt like it was about to explode, released it. Got up and took a few steps on the rug. Sank to his knees, prayed to god. ~ John Ajvide Lindqvist

The statesman received us with that old-fashioned courtesy for which he is remarkable, and seated us on the two luxuriant lounges on either side of the fireplace. Standing on the rug between us, with his slight, tall figure, his sharp features, thoughtful face, and curling hair prematurely tinged with gray, he seemed to represent that not too common type, a nobleman who is in truth noble. ~ Arthur Conan Doyle

Before Jesse could say another word, the bedroom door jerked open and Lucie's father stood on the threshold, looking alarmed.
"Lucie?" he said. "Did you call out? I thought I heard you."
Lucie tensed, but the expression in her father's blue eyes didn't change - mild worry mixed with curious puzzlement. He really couldn't see Jesse.
Jesse looked at her and, very irritatingly, shrugged as if to say, I told you so.
"No, Papa," she said. "Everything is all right."
He looked at the manuscript pages scattered all over the rug. "Spot of writer's block, Lulu?"
Jesse raised an eyebrow. Lulu? he mouthed.
Lucie considered whether it was possible to die of humiliation. She did not dare look at Jesse. ~ Cassandra Clare

Nothing is wrong with me? I thought. Not unclean? It's just . . . a new part of me I need to learn to control? I'd come all this way to go on my pilgrimage because I'd thought my body was trying to tell me something was wrong with it. I hadn't wanted to admit it to myself, but I'd thought I'd broken myself because of the choices I'd made, because of my actions, because I'd left my home to go to Oomza Uni. Because of guilt. The relief I felt was so all encompassing that I wanted to lie down on the rug and just sleep. Ariya ~ Nnedi Okorafor

I mean that the reason God seems to act in ways that make no sense to us is that our perceptions are wrong. Our expectations are subtly twisted. We long for things that harm us and run from the things that grow and heal us. We think good is bad and bad is good. God acts rightly, but to us, it seems confusing. Or sometimes plain wrong. ~ Tessa Afshar

I had this weird, nomadic little tent with a rug over it, like a booth where I'd sing the vocals. ~ Neneh Cherry

And on this you have my pledge - unlike in the past, when you stood up and did what was right, this governor will not pull the rug out from underneath you - I will sign strong reform bills. ~ Chris Christie

Forgive everybody for everything. Just forgive and start - most of us can't start with ourselves. We have to forgive the people we think did things to us. So that's fine. Start there - wherever. Start with the dog who peed on the rug. I don't care where you start, just do it. ~ Iyanla Vanzant

Rahab, don't you know that when God requires the blood of sacrifices to cover the uncleanness and rebellion of the people of Israel, He is thinking of me as much as of you? God's standards measure my heart, not any illusion of righteousness I might contrive to achieve with my actions. And before those standards I fail every day.... I compare myself to the holy standard God sets for us. Your problem is that you compare yourself to me, and conclude yourself a great failure. But your standards are skewed. In a way, each of us is a ruin before God. The wonder is the lengths He goes to in order to save us both from our ruination. ~ Tessa Afshar

Cloves

Where is the scent of cloves coming from?
her hair?
armpit?
or her dress
thrown on the Tunisian rug?
From the third step in the house?
Layla
makes everything smell of cloves.
Layla
is the orchard when it's wet.
She is
what the orchard breathes
when it's watered at night.
Layla knows now
that I am drunk with the scent of cloves,
she stiches together my clouds
and then scatters them together
in a sky like a sheet
as she clasps me.
Layla
feels that my fingers are numb,
over the dunes she knows
my pulse is hers,
my water is hers.
Layla
leaves me sleeping,
rocking between clouds
and cloves. ~ Saadi Youssef

There's a lot of glorification of startups and being a founder. People brush the failures under the rug, but that's the worst thing you can do. You kind of have to face it head on. ~ Christopher Poole

With Snorri troubles were always put front and centre and dealt with. My style was more to shove them under the rug until the floor got too uneven to navigate, and then to move house. ~ Mark Lawrence

I have hair in places monkeys dont.While giving birth my mother almost dies from rug burn. ~ Jim Rose

LONDON. TRINITY TERM one week old. Implacable June weather. Fiona Maye, a High Court judge, at home on Sunday evening, supine on a chaise longue, staring past her stockinged feet toward the end of the room, toward a partial view of recessed bookshelves by the fireplace and, to one side, by a tall window, a tiny Renoir lithograph of a bather, bought by her thirty years ago for fifty pounds. Probably a fake. Below it, centered on a round walnut table, a blue vase. No memory of how she came by it. Nor when she last put flowers in it. The fireplace not lit in a year. Blackened raindrops falling irregularly into the grate with a ticking sound against balled-up yellowing newsprint. A Bokhara rug spread on wide polished floorboards. Looming at the edge of vision, a baby grand piano bearing silver-framed family photos on its deep black shine. On the floor by the chaise longue, within her reach, the draft of a judgment. ~ Ian McEwan

For every fear and anxious thought there is a promise from God that invalidates it; that pulls the rug out from under it and replaces it with a foundational peace we cannot find anywhere else. ~ Caity Alice

People who are prone to anxiety are nearly always people-pleasers who fear conflict and negative feelings like anger. When you feel upset, you sweep your problems under the rug because you don't want to upset anyone. You do this so quickly and automatically that you're not even aware you're doing it. ~ David D. Burns

I was never happier than on the nights we stayed home, lying on the living room rug. We talked about classes and poetry and politics and sex. Neither of us were in love with the Iowa Writers' Workshop, but it didn't really matter because we had no place else to go. What we had was the little home we made together, our life in the ugly green duplex. We lived next door to a single mother named Nancy Tate who was generous in all matters. She would drive us to the grocery store and give us menthol cigarettes and come over late at night after her son was asleep to sit in our kitchen and drink wine and talk about Hegel and Marx. Iowa City in the eighties was never going to be Paris in the twenties, but we gave it our best shot. ~ Ann Patchett

Theres a lot of churches that hide their dirty laundry under the rug, and I know about that from being in the church 27 years. Oh, yeah. ~ Al Green

When honor and glory get your squad killed and your brothers-in-arms shoved under the rug, you stop believing in the terms. ~ Katherine McIntyre

Steve smiled, the rug not only pulled out from under him but rolled up and put away. ~ Heidi Cullinan

I like to think that Harry Cohn is having a somewhat difficult time sleeping in his grave thinking of a chick with a white shag rug taking over his space. ~ Betsy Beers

If ye place yer hand in mine, ye're saying yes to all I plan to do to ye" - he jerked his chin to the Oriental rug ---" here on the floor in front of the hearth. I will love ye like no man in yer past ever has and like no man in yer future would ever dare to try. For ye are mine, beloved, and from this moment until our last, a part of us will belong to the other. ~ Vonnie Davis

Yes, we are raw. Yes, we are in the dark belly of a whale. Yes, we ache. Who can be Jesus' "little sunbeam" at such a time? Would Jesus even want such a thing? He is after much more than happiness in our lives. He is after a sustaining joy and he will give us that joy by giving us himself, whether through the small gifts of life that bring us gladness or through the dark night of suffering. Sweeping affliction under the rug of our heart, therefore, is simple denial, an act of cowardice, and act of ungratefulness. We must dare to look it square in the eyes. ~ Ben Palpant

Mr. Sherlock Holmes, who was usually very late in the mornings, save upon those not infrequent occasions when he was up all night, was seated at the breakfast table. I stood upon the hearth-rug and picked up the stick which our visitor had left behind him the night before. It was a fine, thick piece of wood, bulbous-headed, of the sort which is known as a "Penang lawyer." Just under the head was a broad silver band nearly an inch across. "To James Mortimer, M.R.C.S., from his friends of the C.C.H.," was engraved upon it, with the date "1884." It was just such a stick as the old-fashioned family practitioner used to carry - dignified, solid, and reassuring. ~ Arthur Conan Doyle

Theta crashed next to them on the thick zebra-skin rug. "I'm embalmed."
"Potted and splificated?"
"Ossified to the gills. Time for night-night. ~ Libba Bray

Vane, you okay in there?" my mom calls through my door.
I jump so hard I crash into my desk and knock off some books and video game cases.
If my mom comes in and finds a gorgeous girl in a skimpy dress passed out on my worn gray rug, I'll be grounded for the rest of eternity. Especially since all I have on at the moment are my Batman boxers. Pretty sure she won't buy my ghost-guardian angel/freak-of-nature theories either.
I stumble toward the door, prepared to barricade it with my dresser if I have to. "I'm fine, Mom," I say as I grab the first T-shirt I see off my floor and throw it on, along with my gym shorts.
"Then what's all that banging?"
Come on, Vane. Think!
Inspiration strikes. "I found a date roach in my bed."
"Did you kill it?" My mom sounds farther away, like she jumped back.
"I tried to, but now I can't find it." I don't need to worry about my mom offering to help. She's a big believer in the whole boys should kill all the bugs philosophy.
"Well, I won't distract you, then," she says, and I can't help smiling. ~ Shannon Messenger