Evan Tells It Like It Is Quotes

Your topsoil's a disaster area - it's starved for nitrogen, it's been fertilized for years by the criminally insane, and whatever thief put in your irrigation system ought to be flogged through the fleet. ~ Peter S. Beagle

Anxiety

I struggle with things that are as easy to others as breathing.

Like breathing. Like answering the phone. Or sending that email I have been meaning to for weeks.

I panic when I am asked out to dinner, even if it's with someone I really want to see.

It's hard for me to commit to anything, and when I do, I overthink it until my brain tells me I have made a mistake, like a rat caught in a maze, trying to claw its way out.

I don't know why I am like this. People ask me why I can't do anything without jumping through a thousand thoughts, like hoops. But sometimes I wonder if my inability to function in the real world is really such a bad thing. I wonder if that's why I've spent so much time sheltered in my imagination.

And because I can't live in the real world, I create worlds to belong to. And I wonder if the very thing I've always been told is my weakness, has all along, been my strength. ~ Lang Leav

A people believe in a god' - she completes the circle -' and the god tells them what to believe. It's a cycle, like water flowing into the ocean, then up to the skies, and into rain, which falls and flows into the ocean. But it is different in that ideas have weight. They have momentum. Once an idea starts, it spreads and grows and gets heavier and heavier until it can't be resisted, even by the Divine. ~ Robert Jackson Bennett

Alone is how she feels, alone is how she'll always be. You're used to solitude, she tells herself. Be a stoic.
Then she's enfolded.
She'd waited so long, she'd given up waiting. She'd longed for this, and denied it was possible. But now how easy it is, like coming home must have been once, for those who'd had homes. Walking through the doorway into the familiar, the place that knows you, opens to you, allows you in. Tells you the stories you've needed to hear. Stories of the hands as well, and of the mouth.
I've missed you. Who said that?
A shape against the night window, glint of an eye. Dark heartbeat.
Yes. At last. It's you. ~ Margaret Atwood

On the one hand, all truth is relative; on the other hand, postmodernism tells it like it really is.
On the one hand, all cultures are equally deserving of respect; on the other, Western culture is uniquely destructive and bad.
Values are subjective
but sexism and racism are really evil.
Technology is bad and destructive
and it is unfair that some people have more technology than others.
Tolerance is good and dominance is bad
but when postmodernists come to power, political correctness follows. ~ Stephen Hicks

when it is but it ain't

Some of us love badly.
Sometimes the love is the type of love that implodes.
Folds in on itself. Eats its insides.
Turns wine to poison.
Behaves poorly in restaurants.
Drinks. Kisses other people.
Comes back to your bed at 4am smelling like everything outside.
Asks about your ex. Is jealous of your ex.
Thinks everyone a rival.

Some of us love others badly, love ourselves worse.
Some of us love horrid, love beastly.
Love sick love anti light.
Sometimes the love can't go home at night,
can't sleep with itself, cannot contain itself,
catches fire, destroys the stomach,
strips buildings, goes missing.
Punches. Smashes heirlooms.
Tells lies. The best lies. F*s around.
Writes poems, impresses people.
Chases lovers into corners.
Leaves them longing. Sea sick.
Says yes. Means anything but.
Tricks the body.
Kills the body.
Dances wild
and walks away, smiling. ~ Yrsa Daley-Ward

Like the Critical Theory of the Frankfurt School, postmodernism seeks to institutionalize dishonesty as a legitimate school of thought. The idea of truth as the ultimate goal of the intellectual is discarded. In its place, scholars are asked to pursue political objectives
so long as those political objectives are the 'correct' ones. Postmodernism is not fringe within the community of scholars. It is central. This tells us a great deal about the life of the mind today. Peruse any university course catalogue, and you find names like Foucault, Derrida, and Barthes. Scour the footnotes of scholarly books and journals and a similar story unfolds. With the primacy of philosophies
postmodernism, Critical Theory, and even the right-leaning Straussianism
that exalt dishonesty in the service of supposedly noble causes, is it at all surprising that liars like Alfred Kinsey, Rigoberta Menchu, Alger Hiss, and Margaret Sanger have achieved a venerated status among the intellectuals? ~ Daniel J. Flynn

Great teachers had great personalities and that the greatest teachers had outrageous personalities. I did not like decorum or rectitude in a classroom; I preferred a highly oxygenated atmosphere, a climate of intemperance, rhetoric, and feverish melodrama. And I wanted my teachers to make me smart. A great teacher is my adversary, my conqueror, commissioned to chastise me. He leaves me tame and grateful for the new language he has purloined from other kings whose granaries are filled and whose libraries are famous. He tells me that teaching is the art of theft: of knowing what to steal and from whom. Bad teachers do not touch me; the great ones never leave me. They ride with me during all my days, and I pass on to others what they have imparted to me. I exchange their handy gifts with strangers on trains, and I pretend the gifts are mine. I steal from the great teachers. And the truly wonderful thing about them is they would applaud my theft, laugh at the thought of it, realizing they had taught me their larcenous skills well. ~ Pat Conroy

Sweet Grace amazes me
The way that she can see
Beyond the man I am
To the man that I could be
She's bringing out my best
While she covers all the rest
Some say her love is blind
But I say her love forgets

She don't like it when I try so hard to impress her
'Cause when I do that, it's a lie that makes her love look the lesser
The truth is I know

I'll never be, I'll never be good enough
I'll never deserve her love
I'll never be, I'll never be good enough for Grace
But she takes me anyway

I am the cheatin' kind
But she's changing my mind
The way she takes me back
Though I fail her every time
She's got friends who tell her that she
Is much too good for me
Well, I've told her that myself
But she refuses to leave

I'd like to think my strength won her affection
But the truth is it was my weakness that caught her attention
I'm grateful to know

When my tears fall down like rain
She wipes them from my face
She tells me that I'm lovely
And if I am, it's all because of Grace
This love turns my inside out
And my world upside down
Grace is changing me ~ Jason Gray

If I may throw out a word of counsel to beginners, it is: Treasure your exceptions! When there are none, the work gets so dull that no one cares to carry it further. Keep them always uncovered and in sight. Exceptions are like the rough brickwork of a growing building which tells that there is more to come and shows where the next construction is to be. ~ William Bateson

But, careful! Jesus does not say, Go off and do things on your own. No! That is not what he is saying. Jesus says, Go, for I am with you! This is what is so beautiful for us; it is what guides us. If we go out to bring his Gospel with love, with a true apostolic spirit, with parrhesia, he walks with us, he goes ahead of us, and he gets there first. As we say in Spanish, nos primerea. By now you know what I mean by this. It is the same thing that the Bible tells us. In the Bible, the Lord says: I am like the flower of the almond. Why? Because that is the first flower to blossom in the spring. He is always the first! This is fundamental for us: God is always ahead of us! When we think about going far away, to an extreme outskirt, we may be a bit afraid, but in fact God is already there. Jesus is waiting for us in the hearts of our brothers and sisters, in their wounded bodies, in their hardships, in their lack of faith. ~ Pope Francis

It's taboo to admit that you're lonely. You can make jokes about it, of course. You can tell people that you spend most of your time with Netflix or that you haven't left the house today and you might not even go outside tomorrow. Ha ha, funny. But rarely do you ever tell people about the true depths of your loneliness, about how you feel more and more alienated from your friends each passing day and you're not sure how to fix it. It seems like everyone is just better at living than you are.

A part of you knew this was going to happen. Growing up, you just had this feeling that you wouldn't transition well to adult life, that you'd fall right through the cracks. And look at you now. La di da, it's happening.

Your mother, your father, your grandparents: they all look at you like you're some prized jewel and they tell you over and over again just how lucky you are to be young and have your whole life ahead of you. "Getting old ain't for sissies," your father tells you wearily.

You wish they'd stop saying these things to you because all it does is fill you with guilt and panic. All it does is remind you of how much you're not taking advantage of your youth.

You want to kiss all kinds of different people, you want to wake up in a stranger's bed maybe once or twice just to see if it feels good to feel nothing, you want to have a group of friends that feels like a tribe, a bonafide family. You want to go from one place to the next constan ~ Ryan O'Connell

God is like the ocean and we're like that glass of water. We try to sustain life and do all that the source tells us that we are capable of doing, but if we do it alone, we wither away and collapse instead. ~ Wayne Dyer

When I was young, because I was young once like you, I heard many organ grinders play, and I can assure you no two tunes ever sounded the same, even on the same instrument. That's how it is, isn't it? The less love you put into things the more they resemble one another. The same goes for stories, everyone knows them by heart, but when someone tells them with love, I don't know, they seem new. ~ Andres Neuman

Oh,for God's sake." Frankie rolled his eyes under his green porkpie hat. The color perfectly matched the VINCE stitched onto the pocket of his brown bowling shirt. Frankie is all about vintage chic. "Give me the book.I'll throw it at him."
Frankie's daring. He's also conversant in postmodern art and tells me he loves me on a regular basis. He does lie like a rug,but only to people he doesn't care about, like the gym teacher. "Badminton?" he gasped once, early in our friendship, when I assumed I'd found a gym partner (him) who would actually talk to me. "And risk this nose?"
It's a good nose. In a really, really good face. ~ Melissa Jensen

I should like to say that good batsman are born, not made; but my long experience comes up before me, and tells me that it is not so. ~ W. G. Grace

Sybil tells me your little festival is an annual occurrence," she said, the cadence of her voice swooning like a lullaby.
"Yes," Kai said, lifting a shrimp wonton between his chopsticks. "It falls on the ninth full moon if each year."
"Ah, how lovely for you to base your holidays on the cycles of my planet."
Kai wanted to scoff at the word planet but sucked it back down his throat. ~ Marissa Meyer

Okay, Dr. Milligan," he says. "Go ahead."
"Well, my boy, I just wanted to let you know that I received the results back for the DNA tests. Emma is definitely half human."
Galen winks at me. "You don't say?"
I cover my mouth to stifle a giggle. Rudeness should never be contagious.
"Yes, I'm afraid so. That said, I'm not sure if she even has the capability of forming a fin."
Galen laughs. "We sort of already went along with that assumption, Dr. Milligan. Then the Archives confirmed it. There's a painting of people who look just like Emma in Tartessos."
Dr. Milligan sighs. "You could have called me."
"I'm sorry, Dr. Milligan. I've been...busy."
"Did Emma figure out her lineage, then?"
Galen shakes his head, though the reaction is lost on Dr. Milligan in Florida. "As far as we can tell, Emma's father was a Half-Breed. He's got the coloring, he wore contacts, he loved seafood and the ocean. He obviously knew about Emma's physical issues." He tells Dr. Milligan about his theory that some of the half-breeds survived the destruction of Tartessos.
Dr. Milligan is quiet for a few seconds. "What else?"
Galen gives me a quizzical look. I return a shrug. "What do you mean?" he says.
"I mean, my boy, what other evidence do you have to go on? The man you just described could be me. I used to have blond hair before the gray took over. I wear contacts. I happen to love seafood and the beach, if where I live is any indication. I also ~ Anna Banks

I think sometimes the bits of your life happen in the wrong order, or all at the same time and you waste time feeling angry about it, but that's the way it is, it's real life. You meet the person who you think could make you happy the rest of your life, but at the same time your ex-girlfriend who's told you umpteen times she never wants to see you again tells you you're going to be a dad.'
Elle took up the story.
'And then you move to another country and then the next time you see that person, even though its like no time has passed, you sleep together and then - your mum dies'
She gave a short, sad laugh.
'Yep that's rubbish timing ~ Harriet Evans

I find it fascinating how we can see something with our eyes, hear with our ears and speak from our mouths. Although science tells us how they work, I just really can't grasp it. I don't know how everyday items like phones work. I can't even explain why a bicycle is fast. When I think like this, I wonder how many things I really understand. Yet I can live on. Because all these mysteries have joined together to keep me alive. Sometimes I admire that before I go to bed. ~ Mifune Ryouko

Making progress in science often hinges on asking the right kind of question.

Without a well-posed question, discussions become little more than people talking (or yelling) past each other.

And without a well-posed question, there's no clear path toward gathering data that will yield answers.

Finding a good question is like throwing open the shades in a dark room.

It's the first step in finding a new way to tell is important. It tells us where we should be looking, where we should be going, and how to begin organizing our efforts to get there. ~ Adam Frank

Take that absurd fool Elipas Levi who was supposed to be the Grand High Whatnot in Victorian times. Did you ever read his book, The Doctrine and Ritual of Magic? In his introduction he professes that he is going to tell you all about the game and that he's written a really practical book, by the aid of which anybody who likes can raise the devil, and perform all sorts of monkey tricks. He drools on for hundreds of pages about fiery swords and tetragrams and the terrible aqua poffana, but does he tell you anything? Not a blessed thing. Once it comes to a showdown he hedges like the crook he was and tells you that such mysteries are far too terrible and dangerous to be entrusted to the profane. Mysterious balderdash my friend. I'm going to have a good strong nightcap and go to bed. ~ Dennis Wheatley

The Bible says that love is a responsibility. We are commanded to love. God doesn't ask us if we feel like it, He tells us in His Word that it is our responsibility to love. ~ David Jeremiah

I often have the same dream," she said. "Aki-kun and I are on a ship. A long journey on a large ship. We're together in a small cabin, it's late at night, and through the porthole we can see the full moon. But that moon is made of pure, transparent ice. And the bottom half of it is sunk in the sea. 'That looks like the moon,' Aki-kun tells me, 'but it's really made of ice and is only about eight inches thick. So when the sun comes out in the morning it all melts. You should get a good look at it now, while you have the chance. ~ Haruki Murakami

Honestly, as hard a profession as acting is, I think music is even harder. Acting, you're like a leech, because someone else does the hard part for you. They write it for you, then the director tells you what to do. You really just need to know how to pay attention, follow instructions. ~ Michael Shannon

Incomplete," he says. "If I'm whole, why do I feel like I'm not?" And as usual, Roberta has a calming platitude intended to ease his mind, but as time goes on her rote wisdom leaves him flat and disappointed.

"Wholeness comes from creating experiences that are solely yours, Cam," she tells him. "Live your life and soon you'll find the lives of those who came before won't matter. Those who gave rise to you mean nothing compared to what you are."

But how can he live his life when he's not convinced he has one? The attacks in the press conference still plague him. If a human being has a soul, then where is his? And if the human soul is indivisible, then how can his be the sum of the parts of all the kids who gave rise to him? He's not one of them, he's not all of them, so who is he?

His questions make Roberta impatient. "I'm sorry," she tells him, "but I don't deal in the unanswerable."

"So you don't believe in souls?" Cam asks her.

"I didn't say that, but I don't try to answer things that don't have tangible data. If people have souls, then you must have one, proved by the mere fact that you're alive."

"But what if there is no 'I' inside me? What if I'm just flesh going through the motions, with nothing inside?"

Roberta considers this, or at least pretends to. "Well, if that were the case, I doubt you'd be asking these questions." She thinks for a moment. "If you must have a construct, then think of it ~ Neal Shusterman

Manton told me I was one of the first to have it."
"One of the first," Jackson emphasized. "It appears Lady Celia was the first."
She shot him a warning look. He ignored it.
"What Mr. Pinter meant to say," she said smoothly, "was that Mr. Manton probably tells all his customers that."
"That is not what I meant to say, my lady," Jackson retorted, unreasonably annoyed. "I said what I meant, and I'd thank you not to put words in my mouth."
"I'd thank you not to provoke m-" She caught herself, casting a furtive glance at her listening suitors. "Forgive me, sir. I wasn't trying to 'put words in your mouth.'"
"Of course you were." He was more than willing to draw her fire if it drove her into showing her real self. "That's why you spoke as if you could read my thoughts. Which we both know you can't." If she could, she'd know that right now he wanted nothing more than to drag her away from these curst gentlemen and kiss every inch of her.
"I say, Pinter," Gabe put in, "you're awfully argumentative today."
"The word you're looking for is 'prickly,'" Celia said, a militant glint in her eye. "Mr. Pinter doesn't like having a mere woman speaking for him."
That sparked his temper. "I don't like having anyone , man or woman, speaking for me. I daresay you feel much the same."
She colored but didn't turn away, her eyes flashing at him. ~ Sabrina Jeffries

Fear is good. Like self-doubt, fear is an indicator. Fear tells us what we have to do.
Remember our rule of thumb: The more scared we are of a work or calling, the more sure we can be that we have to do it.
Resistance is experienced as fear; the degree of fear equates to the strength of Resistance. Therefore the more fear we feel about a specific enterprise, the more certain we can be that that enterprise is important to us and to the growth of our soul. That's why we feel so much Resistance. If it meant nothing to us, there'd be no Resistance. ~ Steven Pressfield

You really are a badass, edgy guy who tells it like it is ... about couscous. ~ Jim Norton

You seldom see it in the papers. Once in a while some guys get put up for decorations and a ceremony takes place somewhere. You see them in dress uniforms, standing proud. But that's politics and theater. You should see them as I have, downrange, in action. They're amazing to watch, risking their lives to serve their country. I don't like to talk about valor awards. I don't think it's useful to think about them. We just go to work, and it's the work itself that tells us who we are. Our pride is no less without the fanfare. ~ Marcus Luttrell

There are two kinds of people, I think: those who want to know the future and those who do not. I've never met anyone ambivalent about this. I have been both kinds. For now, I think I know which one is better, but I'm prepared to change my mind again. It may be I am like that drunk who tells himself he can handle his alcohol now. But if I told you I could tell the future, you would laugh at me. And I would laugh at me too. ~ Alexander Chee

Some things a girl has in her to say no to and some things cut her down before she knows she's gone. Sure, some twiggy, thorny snap in her says: no, this is awry, this is a bent thing, in that place that tells her to belly up to the floor before anyone's even shadowed the doorframe. But it don't matter. You can't ask why she did it, when she was warned, when she was told. The plum truth is you would too, if everything impossible stood out there saying you could be loved so perfect the past would go up like a firecracker and shatter across the dark. ~ Catherynne M Valente

The fifth problem
is that when a new man tells you
he likes you too much
already,
it doesn't sound like a promise.
It sounds like a smoke alarm,
warning you to get out fast -
If you hurry, you might miss the worst of it. ~ Brenna Twohy

Cinema is a mixed form. L'Avventura has characters, it has social context, and these things are not trivial. Its plot is the disappearance of a disappearance. Possibly the most frightening plot imaginable. Forgetting the dead, whom all of history tells us we must remember. But what makes movies themselves, rather than novels or plays, is something else. What is it if not the film medium itself? The purity of the visual, which lies in the silence of the stilled image. The freeze frame. The deeply, deeply silent image. Like death. The image in itself in its silent purity reaches
it reaches!
for the purity of death. ~ Frank Lentricchia

Nothing tells in the long run like a good judgment, and no sound judgment can remain with the man whose mind is disturbed by the mercurial changes of the stock exchange. It places him under an influence akin to intoxication. What is not, he sees, and what he sees, is not. ~ Andrew Carnegie

Faith, hope and charity go together. Hope is practised through the virtue of patience, which continues to do good even in the face of apparent failure, and through the virtue of humility, which accepts God's mystery and trusts him even at times of darkness. Faith tells us that God has given his Son for our sakes and gives us the victorious certainty that it is really true: God is love! It thus transforms our impatience and our doubts into the sure hope that God holds the world in his hands and that, as the dramatic imagery of the end of the Book of Revelation points out, in spite of all darkness he ultimately triumphs in glory. Faith, which sees the love of God revealed in the pierced heart of Jesus on the Cross, gives rise to love. Love is the light - and in the end, the only light - that can always illuminate a world grown dim and give us the courage needed to keep living and working. Love is possible, and we are able to practise it because we are created in the image of God. To experience love and in this way to cause the light of God to enter into the world - this is the invitation I would like to extend with the present Encyclical. ~ Benedict XVI

It doesn't matter who came to talk to me,' he said (Barack Obama). He went on to say that I needed to realize the power of my words. I could not send emails like that because they - I am paraphrasing - freak everyone out.

Developing self-awareness is a lifelong process; you don't just wake up one day and have all you need. So even though I'd spend the last few months demonstrating that I was cable and knew what I was doing, this was something of a revelation. When the president of the United States tells you your words are powerful, it can be pretty shocking. I honestly didn't think anyone would give a shit if I sent a snippy email.

It was good advice, specifically to me at the time but generally as it relates to any kind of replying-all in life: Think about how what you say could affect people, from the top down. It was also a wake-up call for me about my state of mind: I didn't know why (yet) - though I'm sure I did, deep down - but my temper was getting worse, and my fuse shorter and shorter. ~ Alyssa Mastromonaco

There is no other book like the Bible. It reveals a different kind of wisdom, comes from a different source, and tells of a different love. ~ Kevin DeYoung

Have you ever heard a five-year-old recite the Pledge of Allegiance, Arthur? It's creepy as hell. Their enunciation is perfect, but they have no idea what kind of promise they're making, of what's being called for. No one tells you until later that breaking your words amounts to treason. No one tells you until later that you can't take it back. I was having my own treasonous thoughts as I drove. They were half formed, but went a little like this: asking something like that from a person ought not to be allowed. ~ Alyson Foster

Waking up from a good dream to face the harsh morning daylight may not seem like a reason to celebrate. But trust me, it is because once you let go of all the hokey stories of eternal bliss, you find that the reality of marriage is far richer and more rewarding than you ever could have guessed. Hard yes. Frustrating, yes. But full of its own powerful, quiet enhancements just the same, and that's better than any fairy tale. (on 8 things no one tells you about marriage) ~ Good Housekeeping

You scare me, Ryan Daley. Even more than those demons outside that scream for my death. How is it that I want what you want? I've spent an eternity feeling powerless. Love did that to me - robbed me of all control. I never expected to feel this way again. I don't want to feel.'
'Neither did I,' Ryan rasps, 'because feeling anything at all was dangerous. If I let myself feel, then maybe I'd have to believe what everyone was saying - that Lauren was dead. But from the moment I laid eyes on "Carmen, you kept getting under my skin. At first, all you did was irritate the hell out of me, bailing me up that way outside my house, inviting yourself along for the ride when all I wanted was to be left alone. But that irritation turned into curiosity, which turned into something else, becoming this chain of, of … feeling that brought me here. I dropped everything for you. I veered left. And I'd do it again in a second. That's what "feeling" does. It tells you you're alive, it gives things … I don't know, proper meaning. You're still trying to maintain some veneer of independence? Toughness? Do words like that even apply to you? But I see through it, Mercy. I see through you. You're not that different from me after all, under your armour. Crumbs, Mercy, that's all I'm after. Just crumbs. It's not a lot to ask for. ~ Rebecca Lim