Deep Cowboy Bebop Quotes

Life will challenge you to do things....
.... sometimes, you just have to let go! ~ Spike Spiegel Cowboy Bebop

I don't like feeling sorry for myself. That's not who I am. And most of the time I don't feel that way. Instead, I am grateful for having at least found you. We could have flashed by one another like two pieces of cosmic dust.
God or the universe or whatever one chooses to label the great systems of balance and order does not recognize Earth-time. To the universe, four days is no different than four billion light years. I try to keep that in mind.
But, I am, after all, a man. And all the philosophic rationalizations I can conjure up do not keep me from wanting you, every day, every moment, the merciless wail of time, of time I can never spend with you, deep within my head.
I love you, profoundly and completely. And I always will.
The last cowboy,
Robert ~ Robert James Waller

He stepped around the island and toward the cabinet, which would have been way too high over her head for her to reach anything anyway. It was a dumb place to put everyday glassware in his opinion. She moved in the same direction he did, and they crashed against each other hard enough to knock his breath out of him with an oomph.
He reached out to steady her.
"I'm sorr---" Becca never quite finished the word. Her eyes went soft as they gazed into his, and Tuck found his hands were no longer safely on her arms but now down holding on to her hips. Those round, beautiful hips he'd held on to for dear life while plunging into her in the hotel.
Tuck swallowed hard and found it hard to breathe. The situation only got worse when she took a single step closer, putting her dangerously near the rising erection in his jeans. He drew in a deep breath, which filled him against with her scent. It was all too much.
There was no fighting this attraction. Tuck dipped his head low and claimed Becca's mouth with his own. ~ Cat Johnson

The Bangkok Comfort Zone - that strip running between Patpong, Soi Cowboy and Nana - was a huge bank of ice, thick as a glacier. Only you had to be around years and years to see and feel the deep chill, and by the time you had it was too late, the glacier had already dragged you under. Then you could never escape the gravity of the place that pulled them back from all over the world. Comfort Zone ice like a narcotic made you feel invincible. Zone veterans lived inside a solid block of ice. Zone workers, who were teenagers in chronological years, were soon aged inside the ice. The night ice crystals formed a thick fog over the Zone veterans and workers, creating an ice bridge; these ice people knew they could no longer live outside the Comfort Zone. They looked as normal as anyone else on the street because no one can see the ice, it's carried inside, around the heart.
Calvino had gone through the event horizon of the Comfort Zone, and lived in the Zone's ice age for so long that it had become a habit. Addiction, baby. He had become Zone dead like the others ~ Christopher G. Moore

Snuggle up with a hot fireman! Meet Tanner West.
Sharon looked up into the most gorgeous face she had ever seen. Eyes like dark chocolate, deep and warm, stared out at her from a face that looked like it could have been chiseled in stone. Skin the color of burnished copper, high cheekbones, a sharp nose, full lips, and a cleft chin. How the hell had she failed to notice him before? Her heart skipped a beat and she ran her gaze down the rest of his body. He was tall, well over six feet, she would guess, with broad shoulders that tapered into a trim waist. His thighs, encased in worn denim, fit like a second skin against legs the size of tree trunks, and oh my, what lay between those thighs ... Her attention snapped back to his face and she could feel the heat of a blush suffuse her skin. ~ Tamara Hoffa

A little boy, he can play like he's a fireman or a cop
although fewer and fewer are pretending to be cops, thank God
or a deep-sea diver or a quarterback or a spaceman or a rock 'n roll star or a cowboy, or anything else glamorous and exciting (Author's note: What about a novelist, Jellybean?), and although chances are by the time he's in high school he'll get channeled into safer, duller ambitions, the great truth is, he can be any of those things, realize any of those fantasies, if he has the strength, nerve and sincere desire ... But little girls? Podner, you know that story as well as me. Give 'em doll babies, tea sets and toy stoves. And if they show a hankering for more bodacious playthings, call 'em tomboy, humor 'em for a few years and then slip 'em the bad news ... And the reality is, we got about as much chance of growing up to be cowgirls as Eskimos have got being vegetarians. ~ Tom Robbins

Gathering her bags, Alani started around the side of her house to the front door.
She drew up short at the sight of Jackson sprawled on her porch steps, a cowboy hat on his head, mirrored sunglasses hiding his eyes.
He didn't move, and neither did she.
He had an utterly relaxed look about him. But then, Jackson had perfected a deceptively indolent pose that hid razor-sharp reflexes and phenomenal speed.
Last night, all night, he'd been far from indolent.
Breathing fast, Alani studied him. His continued stillness suggested sleep. Even when she inched closer, he didn't move.
He was now clean-shaven. A white T-shirt was pulled across his wide chest and shoulders, and hung looser around his taut abs.
Awareness stiffened her knees.
Memories of touching his body, tasting hit hot flesh, sent a tide of sensation through her veins. She swallowed audibly - and stared some more.
He sat with his long legs loose, one foot braced on a step, the other stretched out, his elbows back, his breathing deep and even.
Alani licked her lips and started to slowly, silently retreat.
"Don't make me chase you, darlin'."
Shock snapped her shoulders back. The big faker! He'd been watching her watch him. Teeth set, Alani asked, "What are you doing here?"
He gave a slow smile. "Whatever it takes . . . ~ Lori Foster

Angels banished from heaven have no choice but to become devils. ~ Vicious

It had been almost exactly four months since we'd met; four months since we'd locked glances in that bar; four months since his eyes and hair had made my knees turn to overcooked noodles. It had been four months since he'd failed to call me the next day, week, month. I'd moved on, of course, but the rugged image of Marlboro Man had left an indelible mark on my psyche.
But I'd just begun my Chicago planning before I'd met him that night and had continued the next day. And now, at the end of April, I was just about set to go.
"Oh, hi," I said nonchalantly. I was leaving soon. I didn't need this guy.
"How've you been?" he continued. Yikes. That voice. It was gravelly and deep and whispery and dreamy all at the same time. I didn't know until that moment that it had already set up permanent residence in my bones. My marrow remembered that voice.
"Good," I replied, focusing my efforts on appearing casual, confident, and strong. "I'm just gearing up to move to Chicago, actually."
"No kidding?" he said. "When are you going?"
"Just a couple of weeks," I replied.
"Oh…" He paused. "Well…would you like to go out to dinner this week?"
This was always the awkward part. I could never imagine being a guy.
"Um, sure," I said, not really seeing the point of going out with him, but also knowing it was going to be next to impossible for me to turn down a date with the first and only cowboy I'd ever been attracted to. "I'm pretty free all this week, s ~ Ree Drummond

Hackers are nerdy, pasty, tubby, little geeks with triple thick glasses and this is probably a demented otaku with smelly feet. So catching him will be a breeze! ~ Keiko Nobumoto

I told my best friend in the world, my sister.
"Okay, so I'm not going now," I told Betsy over the phone. I'd awakened her from a deep collegiate sleep.
"Going where?" she asked groggily.
"Chicago," I continued.
"What?" she shrieked. That woke her up. That woke her up but good.
"I'm, like, totally in love," I said. "I'm totally in love with the Marlboro Man." I giggled wildly.
"Oh, God," she said. "Are you gonna get married to him and move out to the boonies and have his babies?"
"No!" I exclaimed. "I'm not moving to the boonies. But I might have his babies." I giggled wildly again.
"What about Chicago?" Betsy asked.
"Well…but…," I argued. "You have to see him in his Wranglers."
Betsy paused. "Well, so much for this conversation. I've gotta go back to sleep anyway--I've got class at noon and I'm exhausted…"
"And you should see him in his cowboy boots," I continued.
"Alrighty, then…"
"Okay, well, don't worry about me," I continued. "I'll just be here, kissing the Marlboro Man twenty-four hours a day in case you need me."
"Whatever…," Betsy said, trying hard not to laugh.
"Okay, well…study hard!" I told her.
"Yep," she replied.
"And don't sleep around," I admonished.
"Gotcha," Betsy replied. She was used to this.
"And don't smoke crack," I added.
"Righty-oh," she replied, yawning.
"Don't skip class, either," I warned.
"You mean, like you did?" Betsy retorted.
"Well ~ Ree Drummond

Radical Edwards's profile? He's a seven-foot tall ex-basketball pro hindu guru drag-queen alien.
-Jet Black, from the Cowboy Bebop anime script ~ Keiko Nobumoto

Need twisted deep and low inside her. It twined through her body like kudzu vines growing out of control, taking over and smothering what little good sense she had left. ~ Cat Johnson

Best surprise ever." I whispered in his face. Then I leaned in and kissed him hard and deep like it was the last kiss I'd ever get.
"Wrong darlin', best hello ever." He grinned ~ K. Larsen

You can see where it's going. The extraordinary political apathy that followed Watergate and Vietnam and the institutionalization of grass-roots rebellion among minorities will only deepen. Politics is about consensus, and the advertising legacy of the sixties is that consensus is repression. Voting'll be unhip: Americans now vote with their wallets. Government's only cultural role will be as the tyrannical parent we both hate and need. Look for us to elect someone who can cast himself as a Rebel, maybe even a cowboy, but who deep down we'll know is a bureaucratic creature who'll operate inside the government mechanism instead of naively bang his head against it the way we've watched poor Jimmy do for four years. ~ David Foster Wallace

Spike Spiegel: Hey, Jet, did you know that there are three things that I hate?
Jet Black: Whatever ...
Spike Spiegel: Kids ... animals ... and women with atitude.
Jet Black: Oh?
Spike Spiegel: So why do we have all three neatly gathered on our ship! ~ Keiko Nobumoto

But what should he wear?
I thought about having him laid to rest in his uniform. But the truth is he hated wearing it. He really needed to be dressed in something he was comfortable in.
And that wasn't going to be in a suit, either: he hated being in a jacket and tie even more than in a uniform.
Tie? Ha!
I got a pair of his best pressed jeans. They had a nice crease in the pants leg, just like he liked. I found one of his plaid button-down shirts, another favorite.
Kryptek, which produces tactical gear and apparel and was one of Chris's favorite companies, had presented him with a big silver belt buckle that he loved. It was very cowboy, and in that way very much who Chris was.
"You think I can pull this off?" he'd asked, showing me how it looked right after he got it.
"Hell, yeah," I told him.
I made sure that was with him as well.
But if there was any item of clothing that really touched deep into Chris's soul, it was his cowboy boots. They were a reminder of who he was when he was young, and they were part of who he'd been since getting out of the military.
He had a really nice pair of new boots that had been custom made. He hadn't had a chance to wear them much, and I couldn't decide whether to bury him in those or another pair that were well worn and very comfortable.
I asked the funeral director for his opinion.
"We usually don't do shoes," he said. It can be very difficult to get them onto the body. "But if i ~ Taya Kyle

Theseus Within the Labyrinth pt.1

The lives of Greeks in the old days were deep,
mysterious and often lead to questions like
just what was wrong with Ariadne anyway, that's
what I'd like to know? She would have done
anything for that rascally Theseus, and what
did he do but sneak out in the night and row
back to his ship with black sails. Let's get
the heck out of here, he muttered to his crew
and they leaned on their oars as he went whack-
whack on the whacking board - a human metronome
of adventure and ill-fortune. She was King Minos's
daughter and had helped Theseus kill the king's
pet monster, her half-brother, so possibly
he didn't like feeling beholden - people might
think he wasn't tough. But certainly he'd spent
his life knocking chips off shoulders and flattening
any fellow reckless enough to step across a line
drawn in the dust. If you wanted a punch thrown,
Theseus was just the cowboy to throw it. I'm only
happy when hitting and scratching, he'd told Ariadne
that first night. So he'd been the logical choice
to sail down from Athens to Crete to stop this
nonsense of a tribute of virgins for some
monster to eat. Those Cretans called it eating but
Theseus thought himself no fool and liked a virgin
as well as the next man. Not that he could have got
into the Labyrinth without Ariadne's help or out
either for that matter. As f ~ Stephen Dobyns

Often self-love is replaced with self- loathing, compounded by beating ourselves up. We become experts at putting ourselves down, judging ourselves, and finding fault. This creates deep shame that says "I am a mistake" instead of saying "I made a mistake. ~ David W. Earle

If I had a nickel for every time I'd wished I possessed the power to alter another person's mind, I'd be knee deep in nickels. ~ Mayandree Michel

England is not the jewelled isle of Shakespeare's much-quoted message, nor is it the inferno depicted by Dr Goebbels. More than either it resembles a family, a rather stuffy Victorian family, with not many black sheep in it but with all its cupboards bursting with skeletons. It has rich relations who have to be kow-towed to and poor relations who are horribly sat upon, and there is a deep conspiracy of silence about the source of the family income. It is a family in which the young are generally thwarted and most of the power is in the hands of irresponsible uncles and bedridden aunts. Still, it is a family. It has its private language and its common memories, and at the approach of an enemy it closes its ranks. A family with the wrong members in control - that, perhaps is as near as one can come to describing England in a phrase. ~ George Orwell

When you look at me that way, I feel so beautiful."
"You are beautiful." He signed deep in his chest. His hands slid up and down her arms, caressing her roughly. "So damned beautiful."
"So are you." She put a hand to his bare chest, tracing the defined ridges of his musculature. "Like a diamond. Hard and gleaming, and cut with all these exquisite facets. Inside ... pure, brilliant fire. ~ Tessa Dare

Well now, what's the problem?" Hawk asked after a long swallow to banish the dust of the training field.
Dragon hesitated but, to his credit, not for long. "I brought a girl with me. Krysta is seeing to her now. She's Lady Rycca of Wolscroft."
Hawk's brows rose slightly. "Your betrothed."
"My errant betrothed. I met her a few days ago, apparently after she donned boy's garb and fled from her home rather than come here and be married to me."
Hawk cleared his throat, decided this was a good time for more ale, and emptied the horn. He finished up with a deep breath before attempting a response. "I see . . . well, I don't actually. She was dressed as a boy, you met several days ago, but you didn't bring her until now?"
"I didn't know who she was. She wouldn't tell me her name so I - " His mouth thinned sardonically. "I decided not to tell her mine. Clever, don't you think?"
"Why do I have the distinct impression that it was anything but?"
"Not knowing who I was - " Dragon broke off. His gaze sought a distant corner of the hall. Quietly, he said, "Not knowing who I was, she lay with me. ~ Josie Litton

Silence is essential for deep transformation. It allows the practice of conscious breathing to become deep and effective. Like still water that reflects things as they are, the calming silence helps us to see things more clearly, and therefore, to be in deeper contact with ourselves and those around us. ~ Nhat Hanh

Ideas are like fish. If you want to catch little fish, you can stay in the shallow water. But if you want to catch the big fish, you've got to go deeper. Down deep, the fish are more powerful and more pure.They're huge and abstract. And they're very beautiful. ~ David Lynch

Everyone needs a spiritual guide: a minister, rabbi, counselor, wise friend, or therapist. My own wise friend is my dog. He has deep knowledge to impart. He makes friends easily and doesn't hold a grudge. He enjoys simple pleasures and takes each day as it comes. Like a true Zen master he eats when he is hungry and sleeps when he is tired. He's not hung up about sex. Best of all, he befriends me with an unconditional love that human beings would do well to imitate. ~ Gary A. Kowalski

If you give me the five hundred dollars right now, I'll let you do
whatever you want to me," she whimpered.
"Why are you being such a hard ass, Jeni?" he said with a wry
smile. He took her hand and slid it down the front of his bare torso. His
abdominal muscles rippled under her hand. Then he slid her hand over
his erection. His cock twitched at the feel of her hand. "You know you
want me to fuck you."
"Then cough up the money, Hamilton!" Though her voice regained
its edge, her body was seconds away from crumbling. She wanted nothing
more than him buried deep inside her. She ached for him. ~ Jessica Jayne

She comes back Through blood by blood She returns Cut deep now Like me Humanity saves her Will she save me? ~ P.C. Cast

Become a coach, not a king. A coach brings out the best in others, helping them to reach deep down inside and discover their potential. A king only gives commands. ~ John C. Maxwell

The instant you sit down to meditate, begin watching your breath. At first breathe normally, gradually letting your breathing slow down until it is quiet, even, and the lengths of the breaths are fairly long. From the moment you sit down to the moment your breathing has become deep and silent, be conscious of everything ~ Thich Nhat Hanh

When you are in deep conflict about something, sometimes the most trivial thing can tip the scales. ~ Ethel Merman

Slowly, she made her way out of the water and stood for a moment on the shore, looking out at the vast expanse of the briny deep. She smiled. This had been her baptism, she reckoned, and with a certainty in her soul that could only come from God Himself, she knew that she would begin her life anew. ~ Paula W. Millet

Your holiness!" She raised her voice, forcing herself to sound tearful and
supplicatory. "If we are to die, would you let me kiss him one last time?"
She half expected Taka to react to her uncharacteristic behavior, but he didn't
move, didn't look at her. He was kneeling in the frozen dirt beside her, every inch of him alert, and she was probably the least of his concerns.
"You want to kiss the man who tried to kill you? You are a very foolish young
woman," the Shirosama said. "Go ahead."
Taka turned to her, his eyes dark and unreadable, waiting. She reached up, put her mouth against his and whispered, "I have a knife that's fallen down the front of my shirt, you son of a bitch. See if you can get it." The feel of his lips against hers was agony. The sickness deep inside her was that she wanted to kiss him anyway, no matter what he'd done. ~ Anne Stuart

How to define a name, may not only be an inquiry of considerable difficulty and intricacy, but may involve considerations going deep into the nature of the things which are denoted by the name. Such, for instance, are the inquiries which form the subjects of the most important of Plato's Dialogues; as, "What is rhetoric?" the topic of the Gorgias, or, "What is justice?" that of the Republic. Such, also, is the question scornfully asked by Pilate, "What is truth?" and the fundamental question with speculative moralists in all ages, "What is virtue? ~ John Stuart Mill

I did not know that I was deep in the throes of fighting my shadow; my shadow being reflected in all those things around me, distracting me from the true problem, and blinding me to myself. ~ Grace G. Payge

We stopped talking about Zampanô then. She paged her friend Christina who took less than twenty minutes to come over. There were no introductions. We just sat down on the floor and snorted lines of coke off a CD case, gulped down a bottle of wine and then used it to play spin the bottle. They kissed each other first, then they both kissed me, and then we forgot about the bottle, and I even managed to forget about Zampanô, about this, and about how much that attack in the tattoo shop had put me on edge. Two kisses in one kiss was all it took, a comfort, a warmth, perhaps temporary, perhaps false, but reassuring nonetheless, and mine, and theirs, ours, all three of us giggling, insane giggles and laughter with still more kisses on the way, and I remember a brief instant then, out of the blue, when I suddenly glimpsed my own father, a rare but oddly peaceful recollection, as if he actually approved of my play in the way he himself had always laughed and played, always laughing, surrendering to its ease, especially when he soared in great updrafts of light, burning off distant plateaus of bistre & sage, throwing him up like an angel, high above the red earth, deep into the sparkling blank, the tender sky that never once let him down, preserving his attachment to youth, propriety and kindness, his plane almost, but never quite, outracing his whoops of joy, trailing him in his sudden turn to the wind, followed then by a near vertical climb up to the angles of the sun, and I was ~ Mark Z. Danielewski

Revival, as contrasted with a Holy Ghost atmosphere is a clean- cut breakthrough of the Spirit, a sweep of Holy Ghost power, bending the hearts of hardened sinners as the wheat before the wind, breaking up the fountains of the great deep, sweeping the whole range of the emotions, as the master hand moves across the harp strings, from the tears and cries of the penitent to the holy laughter and triumphant joy of the cleansed. ~ Norman Grubb

In the beginning this was just an idea. Then it was a short story. Then it was a script. Each step was pretty exciting to see people come on board to support the project. It's gratifying to know that more people are seeing my work in this form than my work as a playwright. And it's been fun to hear people's response to seeing it. I've been having some deep conversations with strangers and friends about how much it has made them think about slavery and its impact today. ~ Steven C. Harper

Deep down in their psyches, both brothers were really just waiting to get old enough to sit on a porch and bang things with a shovel (Armed & Dangerous) ~ Abigail Roux

I would love for someone to offer me a serious part in something. I don't know if I could even pull it off, but I would like to be the cowboy that rides off and someone shoots him off the horse in the middle of town. Just a serious role. It wouldn't have to be a big one. ~ Jeff Foxworthy

Failure is also a test of dedication. It is a way to measure what you are passionate about and how deep that passion runs and how dependable it is. Science may seem methodical but it demands passion. ~ Stuart Firestein

Dive deep into the ocean, Sita, and you will find that the greatest treasures you find are the illusions you leave behind. ~ Christopher Pike

How do I describe the feeling that envelopes my being when he is near? It is like a cocoon of warmth and peace, but beneath that there is a deep longing, a hunger that one kiss would not be able to satisfy, one kiss would only make the hunger greater. But oh, how I long for that kiss, a kiss that might never come.
Being close to him does things to me, makes me feel things I never knew existed, makes me want things I have never wanted before. I have never desired to know a man's body before I met Ariston. I wonder if he knows that I desire him in such a way, that I not only want to know his body, but that I want him to know mine. There is a part of me that would not care if he loves me or not if I could just have one beautiful, passionate night with him, while the rest of me knows that one night would never be enough. ~ Jasmine Dubroff

Don't interfere with something that ain't bothering' you none. ~ Roy Bean

Christianity does not provide the reason for
each experience of pain,
but it does provide deep resources for actually facing suffering
with hope and courage rather than bitterness and despair ~ Timothy Keller

Jax shifted slightly, causing his leg to move between mine. His breathing hadn't changed, it was still deep and steady, but the hand curved along my hip started to slide. A shiver chased after his hand and my chest rise sharply against the side of his body. His hand slipped lower.
Jax cupped my butt cheek.
Totally hands-on, cupped my butt cheek. ~ J. Lynn

Deep to me connotes intellectual rigor, not fashionable obscurity or the unnecessarily academic. ~ Alex Payne