Crack Myself Up Quotes

You smell of winter dew at the first crack of dawn and when you use your power it feels like being submerged in the most intoxicating vanilla cream that I lose myself in it every time and … and you were beautiful,‟ he blurted out, catching us both by surprise. But he went on, ignoring the fact that my hand was still slipping. „So stunning in that dress the other night I could hardly look at you it hurt so much. You are the thing I dread in myself, Violet, because … I love you so much that I can‟t trust myself. I‟d die for you, give up all my power for you, I‟d give my soul in an instant, even if it meant I had to spend eternity in torment - just for one moment with you as mine. Wanting you consumes me. I dread you because I know the risk but I‟m so selfish I want you anyway. I‟d take you even though it could kill you ~ Jessica Shirvington

Yeah, I crack myself up a lot more than I crack anybody else up, but that is okay. At least I am smart enough to get my own jokes. ~ Corey Taylor

Well, good luck,' the Vietnam verbal tic...It was as though people couldn't stop themselves from saying it, even when they actually meant to express the opposite wish, like, 'Die, motherfucker.' Usually it was only an uninhabited passage of dead language, sometimes it came out five times in a sentence, like punctuation, often it was spoken flat side up to telegraph the belief that there wasn't any way out; tough shit, sin loi, smack it, good luck. Sometimes, though, it was said with such feeling and tenderness that it could crack your mask, that much love where there was so much war. Me too, every day, compulsively, good luck: to friends in the press corps going out on operations, to grunts I'd meet at firebases and airstrips, to the wounded, the dead and all the Vietnamese I ever saw getting fucked over by us and each other, less often but most passionately to myself, and though I meant it every time I said it, it was meaningless. It was like telling someone going out in a storm not to get any on him, it was the same as saying, 'Gee, I hope you don't get killed or wounded or see anything that drives you insane.' You could make all the ritual moves, carry your lucky piece, wear your magic jungle hat, kiss your thumb knuckle smooth as stones under running water, the Inscrutable Immutable was still out there, and you kept on or not at its pitiless discretion. All you could say that wasn't fundamentally lame was something like, 'He who bites it this day is safe from the next,' a ~ Michael Herr

I've stopped being sorry for all my soft. I won't apologise because I miss you, or because I said it, or because I text you first, or again. I think everyone spends too much time trying to close themselves off. I don't want to be cool or indifferent, I want to be honest. If I love you at 5AM, I'd damn well rather that you know I felt it. If I love you two hours later, I'll tell you then too. Listen, I won't wait double the time it takes for you to text me back because I don't want to. I don't care enough to be patient with you. I'm happy, you made me feel that way, don't you want to know? So that's how it's going to be. I'm going to leave myself as open as a church door. And I'm going to wake you up before the crack of dawn to tell you that I'm fucking joyful, no pretending, not from me, not ever. Would you like some coffee, would you please kiss me? Here, these are my hands, this is my mouth, it is all yours. ~ Azra T.

If he had any kind of a clue, he wouldn't be caught dead with that stuff. See what I did there? Caught dead? I crack myself up. Eve sipped more coffee she probably, at this point, didn't need. ~ Rachel Caine

Lights Out"

I have come to the borders of sleep,
The unfathomable deep
Forest where all must lose
Their way, however straight,
Or winding, soon or late;
They cannot choose.

Many a road and track
That, since the dawn's first crack,
Up to the forest brink,
Deceived the travellers,
Suddenly now blurs,
And in they sink.

Here love ends,
Despair, ambition ends;
All pleasure and all trouble,
Although most sweet or bitter,
Here ends in sleep that is sweeter
Than tasks most noble.

There is not any book
Or face of dearest look
That I would not turn from now
To go into the unknown
I must enter, and leave, alone,
I know not how.

The tall forest towers;
Its cloudy foliage lowers
Ahead, shelf above shelf;
Its silence I hear and obey
That I may lose my way
And myself. ~ Edward Thomas

It was the most pleasurable thing I've ever done, playing this character, and I just remember feeling so at home and so - I don't know, I was just happy - and it just wasn't ever work! It was like a sandbox for me, and I would crack myself up rehearsing. ~ Jenna Elfman

I realised I can't shut myself away or - crack up. Sirius wouldn't have wanted that, would he? And anyway, life's too short... look at Madam Bones, looks at Emmeline Vance... it could be me next, couldn't it? But if it is," he said fiercely, now looking straight into Dumbledore's blue eyes, gleaming in the wand-light, "I'll make sure I take as many Death Eaters with me as I can, and Voldemort too if I manage it."
"Spoken both like your mother and father's son and Sirius's true god-son!" said Dumbledore with an approving pat on Harry's back. ~ J.K. Rowling

I went up the stairs of the little hotel, that time in Bystřice by Benešov, and at the turn of the stairs there was a bricklayer at work, in white clothes; he was chiselling channels in the wall to cement in two hooks, on which in a little while he was going to hang a Minimax fire-extinguisher; and this bricklayer was already and old man, but he had such an enormous back that he had to turn round to let me pass by, and then I heard him whistling the waltz from The Count of Luxembourg as I went into my little room. It was afternoon. I took out two razors, and one of them I scored blade-up into the top of the bathroom stool, and the other I laid beside it, and I, too, began to whistle the waltz from The Count of Luxembourg while I undressed and turned on the hot-water tap, and then I reflected, and very quietly I opened the door a crack. And the bricklayer was standing there in the corridor on the other side of the door, and it was as if he also had opened the door a crack to have a look at me and see what I was doing, just as I had wanted to have a look at him.

And I slammed the door shut and crept into the bath, I had to let myself down into it gradually, the water was so hot; I gasped with the sting of it as carefully and painfully I sat down. And then I stretched out my wrist, and with my right hand I slashed my left wrist ... and then with all my strength I brought down the wrist of my right hand on the upturned blade I'd grooved into the stool for that purpose. ~ Bohumil Hrabal

I crack myself up. ~ James W. Huston