Funky Bones Quotes

I can't go to Amsterdam. One of my doctors thinks it's a bad idea."
He was quiet for a second. "God," he said. "I should've just paid for it myself. Should've just taken you straight from the Funky Bones to Amsterdam."
"But then I would've had a probably fatal episode of deoxygenation in Amsterdam, and my body would have been shipped home in the cargo hold of an airplane," I said.
"Well, yeah," he said. "But before that, my grand romantic gesture would have totally gotten me laid."
I laughed pretty hard, hard enought that I felt where the chest tube had been.
"You laugh because it's true," he said.
I laughed again.
"It's true, isn't it!"
"Probably not," I said, and then after a moment added, "although you never know. ~ John Green

What I love about the sculpture is that it makes the bones that we are always walking and playing on manifest, like in a world that so often denies the reality of death and the reality that we are surrounded by and outnumbered by the dead. Here, is a very playful way of acknowledging that and acknowledging that and that always, whenever we play, whenever we live, we are living in both literal and metaphorical ways on the memory and bones of the dead. ~ John Green

A few would quote him scripture to confound his ordering up of eons out of the ancient chaos and other apostate supposings. The judge smiled. Books lie, he said. God dont lie. No, said the judge. He does not. And these are his words. He held up a chunk of rock. He speaks in stones and trees, the bones of things. ~ Cormac McCarthy

Your hair is all funky in the morning. ~ Maggie Stiefvater

I gave the couple a hint of a design that would work great with the bones of their home. They weren't ready for it, and they embarrassed themselves and that's too bad. ~ Douglas Wilson

At Waterloo, the common dead were left to rot on the battlefield; their bones were gathered up by English contractors, shipped back to Britain, ground up, and used as bonemeal and fertilizer. ~ The Warrior's Honour, By Michael Ignatieff

Character is an essential tendency. It can be covered up, it can be messed with, it can be screwed around with, but it can't be ultimately changed. It's the structure of our bones, the blood that runs through our veins. ~ Sam Shepard

The twins hobbled forward. "Freaks and dames and boys and things, drinks and bones and shiny rings," said the twin on the left.
"Ashes and earth will imprison the frail, blood of love will lift the veil," said the other. ~ J.A. Redmerski

Since the dawn of time, several billion human (or humanlike) beings have lived, each contributing a little genetic variability to the total human stock. Out of this vast number, the whole of our understanding of human prehistory is based on the remains, often exceedingly fragmentary, of perhaps five thousand individuals. You could fit it all into the back of a pickup truck if you didn't mind how much you jumbled everything up, Ian Tattersall, the bearded and friendly curator of anthropology at the American Museum of Natural History in New York, replied when I asked him the size of the total world archive of hominid and early human bones.
The shortage wouldn't be so bad if the bones were distributed evenly through time and space, but of course they are not. They appear randomly, often in the most tantalizing fashion. Homo erectus walked the Earth for well over a million years and inhabited territory from the Atlantic edge of Europe to the Pacific side of China, yet if you brought back to life every Homo erectus individual whose existence we can vouch for, they wouldn't fill a school bus. Homo habilis consists of even less: just two partial skeletons and a number of isolated limb bones. Something as short-lived as our own civilization would almost certainly not be known from the fossil record at all.
In Europe, Tattersall offers by way of illustration, you've got hominid skulls in Georgia dated to about 1.7 million years ago, but then you have a gap of almost a millio ~ Bill Bryson

Remember, There's a map beneath your skin and all your veins are rivers, there's directions and instructions written in secret on your bones, there's a star you can't see that shines in a North you'll never know.
And a secret current, beneath the waves, that carries you to the end of you. ~ Pleasefindthis

Honey, these aren't ordinary penis bones." "Not the kind you pick up at Walgreens, with a bottle of aspirin and a scented candle? ~ Cherie Priest

What are you gonna help us with? That very tiny used condom? ~ Booth

James Brown was my favorite, my absolute idol. Every time I played with him was like a music lesson, and I never thought I could be so funky! I mean, a white boy from Canada - a Jew - getting down with his funky bad self! ~ Paul Shaffer

I honestly really, really love Topshop. I've bought a lot of booties from there. I think they have a great selection of really funky booties at Topshop. My splurge would be a pair of leather Christian Louboutin over-the-knee boots. They're sick! I would do a really stretchy skinny jean under a black turtleneck and call it a day! ~ Adrienne Bailon

There are many kinds of love. There is the love one feels for his sire for breathing life into his bones. There is the love for brothers, and there is the love for friends. And then is the love that brings the heaviest of heartaches. ~ Xia Xia Lake

What we get in steerage is not the refuse, but the sinew and bone of all the nations. ~ Mary Antin

Would you believe Nell told me off for kissing Sienna in the corridor?"

Felix couldn't fight his own grin. "Way I heard it, you were doing more than kissing. Wasn't there a half-unbuttoned shirt involved?"

Hawke's bad-tempered grown reverberated through Felix's bones. "I can't wait to have ammunition against you. I hope Dezi pounces on you in public. ~ Nalini Singh

Cat, hmmm? From where I sit you look more like a Kitten."
My head jerked around and I shot him an annoyed look.
Oh, I was going to enjoy this, all right.
"It's Cat," I repeated firmly. "Cat Raven."
"Whatever you say, Kitten Tweedy. ~ Jeaniene Frost

It sloweth age, it strengtheneth youth, it helpeth digestion, it abandoneth melancholie, it relisheth the heart, it lighteneth the mind, it quickenth the spirits, it keepeth and preserveth the head from whirling, the eyes from dazzling, the tongue from lisping, the mouth from snaffling, the teeth from chattering and the throat from rattling; it keepeth the stomach from wambling, the heart from swelling, the hands from shivering, the sinews from shrinking, the veins from crumbling, the bones from aching, and the marrow from soaking. ~ Joseph Lyons

Last night I thought I kissed

the loneliness from out your belly button.
I thought I did, but later you sat up,
all bones and restless hands, and told me
there is a knot in your body that I cannot undo.

I never know what to say to these things.
"It's okay." "Come back to bed."
"Please don't go away again."

Sometimes you are gone for days at a time
and it is all I can do not to call the police,
file a missing person's report, even though
you are right there, still sleeping next to me
in bed. But your eyes are like an empty house
in winter: lights left on to scare away intruders.

Except in this case I am the intruder and you
are already locked up so tight that no one
could possibly jimmy their way in.

Last night I thought I gave you a reason
not to be so sad when I held your body like
a high note and we both trembled from the effort.

Some people, though, are sad against all reason,
all sensibility, all love. I know better now.
I know what to say to the things you admit to me
in the dark, all bones and restless hands.

"It's okay." "You can stay in bed."
"Please come back to me again. ~ Donna-Marie Riley

When women hear those words, an old, old memory is stirred and brought back to life. The memory is of our absolute, undeniable, and irrevocable kinship with the wild feminine, a relationship which may have become ghostly from neglect, buried by over-domestication, outlawed by the surrounding culture, or no longer understood anymore. We may have forgotten her names, we may not answer when she calls ours, but in our bones we know her, we yearn toward her, we know she belongs to us and we to her. ~ Clarissa Pinkola Estes

Sweaty palms. check. shaky bones. check. the feeling that all oxygen in the air has been replaced by helium. yup. ~ David Levithan

It was Christmas night in the Castle of the Forest Sauvage, and all around length. It hung on the boughs of the forest trees in rounded lumps, even better than apple-blossom, and occasionally slid off the roofs of the village when it saw the chance of falling on some amusing character and giving pleasure to all. The boys made snowballs with it, but never put stones in them to hurt each other, and the dogs, when they were taken out to scombre, bit it and rolled in it, and looked surprised but delighted when they vanished into the bigger drifts. There was skating on the moat, which roared with the gliding bones which they used for skates, while hot chestnuts and spiced mead were served on the bank to all and sundry. The owls hooted. The cooks put out plenty of crumbs for the small birds. The villagers brought out their red mufflers. Sir Ector's face shone redder even than these. And reddest of all shone the cottage fires down the main street of an evening, ~ T.H. White

My father had owned a ranch when he was younger, in Montana, and he remembered riding his horse across the prairie and seeing some large bones sticking out of the ground. He was enough of a geologist, being a sand and gravel man, to have a pretty good notion that they were dinosaur bones. ~ Jack Horner

Sometimes my helpless blood runs numb and, if only for a second, I forget how frail bones can be. ~ Taylor Patton

Till they arrived no other lives had been lived here. It made the air that much thinner, harder to breathe. She had not understood, till she came to a place where it was lacking, the extent to which her sense of the world had to do with the presence of those who had been there before, leaving signs of their passing and spaces still warm with their breath - a threshold worn with the coming and going of feet, hedges between fields that went back a thousand years, and the names even further; most of all, the names on headstones, which were their names, under which lay the bones that had made their bones and given them breath. ~ David Malouf

At fourteen my sister sailed away from me into a place I'd never been. In the walls of my sex there was horror and blood, in the walls of hers there were windows. ~ Alice Sebold

It was not necessary to leave to learn that. But there were other reasons to go. If a person had a child but no husband, a room but no house, a place but no home, a will but no way, and if a person was losing her son and herself, little by little, day by day, because she knew what she knew in her skin and bones but not what her sister-in-law knew in her books and pamphlets, then yes, it was necessary. ~ Jamie Zeppa

In an interview, former vice-presidential candidate Paul Ryan said he does not have a racist bone in his body. However, he admitted he has three sexist bones and his spine is homophobic. ~ Conan O'Brien

No, Sarah. There's more. There's always more. I won't give you up. I won't! It's not just a game. Midgard is real for many people and it's real for what they've experienced. It's real. We don't doubt the way they feel or what they've seen or how they spend their time, so you must be real too! You have to be real, Sarah, because if you aren't, how can I justify any of it? You are a few scraps of code. I'm a few liters of blood and some bones in a bag of skin. If I'm real, you're real too! ~ Brandon R. Chinn

Dear Blubbo, How is it going? It is fine here. My sisters are fine. Mom is usual. Everything is regular in life except I am still seeing the burning skull heads. Yesterday Mom took me to Sears for school clothes. I told my sisters I could see the people's head bones. They said DO NOT tell Mom. A guy moved a trailer onto the empty lot by our house. His skull is spectacular, many colors glowing. ~ Lynda Barry

Metaphors are not user-friendly. They're difficult to find and difficult to use well. Unfortunately, metaphors are a mainstay of good lyric writing-indeed of most creative writing ... metaphors support lyrics like bones. ~ Pat Pattison

It was one thing convincing the world something was true, but it was bad when I started to believe it in my bones. There was enough deception going on these days without adding my own mind to the list of those not to be trusted. ~ Helen Hiorns

. . . pasta is rarely fatal. Unless Isabelle makes it." - Jace Wayland ~ Cassandra Clare

I don't have to try to be perfect because I know that my fans like me for who I am. They like me because I am weird and kind of funky, but still really calm. ~ Bella Thorne

It was rather beautiful: the way he put her insecurities to sleep. The way he dove into her eyes and starved all the fears and tasted all the dreams she kept coiled beneath her bones. ~ Christopher Poindexter

It sounded stupid, but of course everything does when you're just getting the bare bones facts, only the basics ... ~ Sarah Dessen

I know who I married, too. You're in me. When I touch you, your flesh communicates with my bones. ~ Tayari Jones

Thus I got into my bones the essential structure of the ordinary British sentence, which is a noble thing. ~ Winston Churchill

A new immigrant, within two years, will come to know that the salon is, in the end, a place where dreams become the calcified knowledge of what it means to be awake in American bones - with or without citizenship - aching, toxic, and underpaid.

I hate and love your battered hands for what they can never be. ~ Ocean Vuong

I love prints of skulls and bones and have some taxidermy - a crow and a rabbit - to remind me of home. I like art and have a big portrait of Bjork. ~ Ellie Goulding

Bagpipe Music'

It's no go the merrygoround, it's no go the rickshaw,
All we want is a limousine and a ticket for the peepshow.
Their knickers are made of crêpe-de-chine, their shoes are made of python,
Their halls are lined with tiger rugs and their walls with heads of bison.

John MacDonald found a corpse, put it under the sofa,
Waited till it came to life and hit it with a poker,
Sold its eyes for souvenirs, sold its blood for whiskey,
Kept its bones for dumb-bells to use when he was fifty.

It's no go the Yogi-Man, it's no go Blavatsky,
All we want is a bank balance and a bit of skirt in a taxi.

Annie MacDougall went to milk, caught her foot in the heather,
Woke to hear a dance record playing of Old Vienna.
It's no go your maidenheads, it's no go your culture,
All we want is a Dunlop tyre and the devil mend the puncture.

The Laird o' Phelps spent Hogmanay declaring he was sober,
Counted his feet to prove the fact and found he had one foot over.
Mrs Carmichael had her fifth, looked at the job with repulsion,
Said to the midwife 'Take it away; I'm through with overproduction'.

It's no go the gossip column, it's no go the Ceilidh,
All we want is a mother's help and a sugar-stick for the baby.

Willie Murray cut his thumb, couldn't count the damage,
Took the hide of an Ayrshire cow and used it for a bandage.
His brother caugh ~ Louis MacNeice

Cold. Foggy cold. Soaking through fabric, biting into the skin, clutching the bones until flesh crawled.
There was no moonlight, only orange, smoky lanterns, and the light made the snow glitter and turned the shadows into blood. ~ Erik Tavares