Quotes About Mosh Pit
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Now that our kids are getting older, they need their space. We dug out the basement so they will have a place to go crazy in the wintertime. My son is already talking about how he's going to make a skateboard ramp. It's just a mosh pit down there, so they can do whatever they want. We're not even going to finish it. ~ Candice Olson
I used to worry that my nephew might be in some dangerous situation with {my husband}, or that {he} would have him eat some plant that might prove fatal to Jamie. Now that two-hundred pound {football players} were hurling themselves at my nephew and my brother seemed willing to pay for this mosh pit called sport, I actively campaigned to have Jamie free for his uncle's uses. So what if he had to have his stomach pumped; he wasn't going to sustain a head injury sorting seeds out of orangutan feces. ~ Michelle Latiolais
I try to never miss the Zumba class since I believe comedy is a great way to start your week.
... It was great fun, although I had to hold myself back from turning it into a giant mosh pit slam dance. Last time I did that they kicked me out for a month. Today I enjoyed watching an 80 year old lady - with a cane no less - shimmy, her boobs flying like weapons around her waist. ~ Debra Dunbar
My insurance provider probably wouldn't allow me to go into a mosh pit anymore. My brain is insured by Lloyd's of London, you know what I'm saying? ~ CeeLo Green
I was the first one to allow a projectile to come off of the stage and into the audience. And I kind of take responsibility for the mosh pit. ~ Gallagher
The mosh pit will reveal all the answers. The mosh pit never lies.
-Norah, Nick & Norah's Infinite Playlist ~ Rachel Cohn
The walk-off win provides one of baseball's most thrilling outbursts, launching a couple dozen tense teammates out of the dugout into a frenzied mosh pit of elation. ~ Dirk Lammers
I'm always feeling like I don't belong, no matter where I am. So I'm just searching for a family nonstop, and sometimes I find it in the mosh pit, sometimes I find it when I'm doing some French TV show with the president's wife. ~ James Hetfield
If you are quiet on the bench you will just get swallowed up. It is like a mosh pit. ~ Tisha Venturini
Is the phrase 'pay' or 'play the piper'
I inquire, why
'Cause I admire a desire to flip the switch
Yeah make a way to face the music like
Life savings for a mosh pit riot
Listen to a mix
Rock the tickets, higher volume
Velocity which shakes a cockpit's pilot ~ Criss Jami
I jumped in the mosh pit, and some kid punched me in the chin, so I swung on ceiling pipes and kicked people in the head. ~ Ned Vizzini
If the pit of love never ceases, I will continue to look for the bottom, so you can have it all. ~ Jacob L. White
I love those hockey moms. You know what they say the difference between a hockey mom and a pit bull is? Lipstick. ~ Sarah Palin
I groaned at having to admit social responsibility, which was only for Niko's sake or I would've dropped that asshole straight into the pit and had a brewski to celebrate the occasion. ~ Cal Leandros
Evil lives in a pit. If you want to fight it, you must climb down into the slime to do so. White cloaks show the dirt more thank black, and silver tarnishes. ~ David Gemmell
Thank you all from the pit of my burning, nauseous stomach for your letters and concern during the past years. ~ Kurt Cobain
Ow. Ow. That hurt. Ack.. I'm dead. ~ Peach-Pit
A mini-cab later and he arrived in Stockwell, where the pit bulls travelled in twos. Ludlow Road is near the tube station, a short mugging away. ~ Ken Bruen
That the reason why they are not fallen already and do not fall now is only that God's appointed time is not come. For it is said, that when that due time, or appointed time comes, their foot shall slide. Then they shall be left to fall, as they are inclined by their own weight. God will not hold them up in these slippery places any longer, but will let them go; and then, at that very instant, they shall fall into destruction; as he that stands on such slippery declining ground, on the edge of a pit, he cannot stand alone, when he is let go he immediately falls and is lost. ~ Jonathan Edwards
A minute or so passed by--not long, but long enough to make me wonder whether Oliver was setting up mood lighting or hiding dead bodies. Or if someone was up there waiting to stab me again. Or if someone was up there waiting to hand me a crown and tell me I was the long-lost princess of Genovia. Or if I'd tumble into a pit of lava, only to get saved at the last second by a flying carpet. ~ Lindsay Ribar
HS is supposedly a story that is also a game. In games, the characters die all the time. How many times did you let Mario fall in the pit before he saved the princess? Who weeps for these Marios. In games your characters die, but you keep trying and trying and rebooting and resetting until finally they make it. When you play a game this process is all very impersonal. Once you finally win, when all is said and done those deaths didn't "count", only the linear path of the final victorious version of the character is considered "real". Mario never actually died, did he? Except the omniscient player knows better. HS seems to combine all the meaningless deaths of a trial-and-error game journey with the way death is treated dramatically in other media, where unlike our oblivious Mario, the characters are aware and afraid of the many deaths they must experience before finally winning the game. ~ Andrew Hussie
Still,' whispered Jack, 'you have to keep at it. Overcome the miseries of vomiting and the whirling pit. Pay your dues and work towards the real rewards of big-time adult drinking. Something to look forward to. ~ Robert Rankin
He stared down at the golden curls of the Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast that is called Dragon, Prince of This World, Father of Lies, Spawn of Satan, and Lord of Darkness.
"You know," he concluded, after a while, "I think he actually looks like an Adam. ~ Neil Gaiman
I've never liked urban myths. I've never liked pretending to believe in them; never understood why everyone else doesn't see straight through them. Why is it they've always happened to a friend of a friend - someone you've never met? Why does everyone smile and nod and pull the right faces, when they must know they're not true? Pointless. A waste of breath.
So I sneered at the myths about Scaderstone Pit. It was just an old quarry – nothing more. I never believed in the rumours of discarded dynamite. It had decayed, they said. It exploded at the slightest touch, had even blown someone's hand off. I shrugged off the talk of the toxic waste. It was dumped in the dead of night, they said. The canisters rusting away, leaking deadly poisons that could blind you, burn your lungs. I laughed at the ghost stories. You could hear the moans, they said, of quarrymen buried alive and never found. You could see their nightwalking souls, searching for their poor crushed bodies.
I didn't believe any of it – not one word. Now, after everything that's happened, I wonder whether I should've listened to those stories. Maybe then, these things would've happened to someone else, and I could've smiled and said they were impossible.
But this is not an urban myth. And it did not happen to someone else, but to me. I've set it down as best I can remember. Whether you believe it or not, is up to you. ~ Mikey Campling
Below me, inside me, there's a pit that's dark and comforting and quite completely insane. If I sink into it, I can be free of all torture. ~ Karen Marie Moning
She loved airports. She loved the smell, she loved the noise, and she loved the whole atmosphere as people walked around happily tugging their luggage, looking forward to going on their holidays or heading back home. She loved to see people arriving and being greeted with a big cheer by their families and she loved to watch them all giving each other emotional hugs. It was a perfect place for people-spotting. The airport always gave her a feeling of anticipation in the pit of her stomach as though she were about to do something special and amazing. Queuing at the boarding gate, she felt like she was waiting to go on a roller coaster ride at a theme park, like an excited little child. ~ Cecelia Ahern
A pit rises in my stomach, hard and full. My breathing stops for a moment, then starts again, this time shallower. My mouth goes dry, and I feel my heart pounding. It is over, I know, and I am right. ~ Nicholas Sparks
So finally we tumble into the abyss, we ask God why he has made us so feeble. But, in spite of ourselves, He replies through our consciences: 'I have made you too feeble to climb out of the pit, because i made you strong enough not to fall in. ~ Jean-Jacques Rousseau
Being a vampire is not a curse. It's a disease," Tessa filled in. "But they still can't enter hallowed ground, then? Does that mean they're damned?"
"That depends on what you believe," said Jem. "And whether you believe in damnation at all."
"But you hunt demons. You must believe in damnation!"
"I believe in good and evil," said Jem. "And I believe the soul is eternal. I don't believe in the fiery pit, the pitchforks, or the endless torment. I do not believe you can threaten people into goodness. ~ Cassandra Clare
Statement Preliminary to the Invention of Solace
Whether they bend as compliantly as black leaves
Curved and hanging in the heavy dew in the grey dawn,
Or whether they wait as motionless as ice-coated
Insects and spears of roots on a northern cliff;
Whether they tighten once like the last white edge
Of primrose taken suddenly skyward
By a gust of frost, or swallow as hard as stones
Careened and scattered by a current of river;
Whether they mourn by the bright light of grief
Running like a spine of grass straight through the sound
Of their songs, or whether they fall quietly
Through indefinite darkness like a seed of sorrel
Bound alive beneath snow;
whether they mourn in multitudes, blessed
like a congregation of winter forest moaning for the white
drifting children of storms they can never remember,
or whether they grieve separately, divided
even from themselves, parted like golden plovers blown
and calling over a buffeted sea;
something must come to them, something as clear and fair
and continuous as the eye of the bluegill open in calm water,
something as silent as the essential spaces of breath
heard inside the voice naming all of their wishes,
something touching them in the same way the sun deep
in the pit of the pear touches the spring sky by the light
of its own leaf. A comfort understood like that Pattiann Rogers
Emma felt frightened, apprehensive, yes, but also elated and excited, her feelings all tumbled and mixed together like a stew of varied ingredients tossed into the same pot. She was aware of the blood coursing through her veins, the beat of her heart, the breath in her lungs. Was aware, too, of that clenched knot that hung in the pit of her stomach. This was what it was to be alive, to be at the edge, facing survival eye to eye, knowing, KNOWING, you would win. ~ Helen Hollick
-BDB on the board-
Knitter's Anonimous
May 8, 2006
Rhage (in his bedroom posting in V's room on the board)
Hi, my name is V.
("Hi, V")
I've been knitting for 125 years now.
(*gasping noises*)
It's begun to impact my personal relationships: my brothers think I'm a nancy. It's begun to affect my health: I'm getting a callus on my forefinger and I find bits of yarn in all my pockets and I'm starting to smell like wool. I can't concentrate at work: I keep picturing all these lessers in Irish sweaters and thick socks.
(*sounds of sympathy*)
I've come seeking a community of people who, like me, are trying not to knit.
Can you help me?
(*We're with you*)
Thank you (*takes out hand-knitted hankie in pink*)
(*sniffles*)
("We embrace you, V")
Vishous (in the pit): Oh hell no...you did not just put that up. And nice spelling in the title. Man...you just have to roll up on me, don't you. I got four words for you, my brother.
Rhage: Four words? Okay...lemme see... Rhage, you're so sexy.
hmmm....
Rhage, you're SO smart. No wait! Rhage, you're SO right! That's it, isn't it...g'head. You can tell me.
Vishous: First one starts with a "P"
Use your head for the other three.
Bastard.
Rhage: P? Hmm... Please pass the yarn
Vishous: Payback is a bitch!
Rhage: Ohhhhhhhhhhhh
I'm so scuuuuuurred.
Can you whip me up a blanket to h ~ J.R. Ward
Purpose of life is unknown, and hence way to be is hidden from the eyes of living critters. Who can say if perhaps the schizophrenics are not correct? Mister, they take a brave journey. They turn away from mere things, which one may handle and turn to practical use; they turn inward to meaning. There, the black-night-without-bottom lies, the pit. Who can say if they will return? And if so, what will they be like, having glimpsed meaning? I admire them. ~ Philip K. Dick
No good thing comes from the practice of comparison. What farmer is constantly comparing the young sprout he just planted with the mature, fruitful vines and measuring its height against them? Our Vinedresser does not pit us against one another, and we should follow His lead. ~ Anna Blanc
The Angry One sat quietly simmering. His rage burned a hole in the pit of his stomach. He'd been generous with her...and ~ L.R. Potter
The Congress has historically played covert communal politics in order to create what in India we call vote banks where you pit one community against another and so on in order to secure votes. ~ Arundhati Roy
had tried to stay calm since I understood the desire he had for my beautiful friend. Yet I couldn't keep the anger from the pit of my stomach when he pushed his finger into my chest. I had experienced enough of his attitude. It was time to show him fear. He needed to be put in his place. Actually, they all needed to be put in their place. My ~ Michael-Scott Earle
We were racing at circuits where there were no crash barriers in front of the pits, and fuel was lying about in churns in the pit lane. A car could easily crash into the pits at any time. It was ridiculous. ~ Jackie Stewart
Of all the possible partners, I get a pit bull puppy. ~ Lauren Layne
The best way I can describe [being transgender] for myself [...] is a constant feeling of homesickness. An unwavering ache in the pit of my stomach that only goes away when I can be seen and affirmed in the gender I've always felt myself to be. And unlike homesickness with location, which eventually diminishes as you get used to the new home, this homesickness only grows with time and separation. ~ Sarah McBride
If you start in the pit of despair with these profane, awful things, even a glimmer of hope or awareness is going to occur that's much brighter coming from this dark, awful beginning. ~ Chuck Palahniuk
I want you to buy this pit bull. This will protect your valuables.' I don't own anything very valuable. If I buy the pit bull, that would be the most valuable thing I own. I'd have to buy something to protect it then. ~ Norm MacDonald
I see in the papers that the singer, Frank Ifield, popular in the fifties, is planning a comeback. I remember reviewing his debut at the Palladium under the insane misapprehension that he was blind. (I had him confused with a blind vocalist who bore a similar name.) I watched agape with admiration while he strolled around the stage with every appearance of knowing where he was going, and I burst into spontaneous applause as he strode down to within a foot of the orchestra pit without the least sign of fear. By the end of his act I was misty with tears at the thought of his courage. I often wonder what he thought when he read the review in which I congratulated him on the gallantry with which he had overcome the handicap of sightlessness. ~ Kenneth Tynan
God took the hard rocks at the bottom of my pit and stacked them up high, creating something beautiful for His glory. ~ Diane Cunningham
In October 1941, Mahilue became teh first substantial city in occupied Soviet Belarus where almost all Jews were killed. A German (Austrian) policeman wrote to his wife of his feelings and experiences shooting the city's Jews in the first days of the month. 'During the first try, my hand trembled a bit as I shot, but one gets used to it. By the tenth try I aimed calmly and shot surely at the many women, children, and infants. I kept in mind that I have two infants at home, whom these hordes would treat just the same, if not ten times worse. The death that we gave them was a beautiful quick death, compared to the hellish torments of thousands and thousands in the jails of the GPU. Infants flew in great arcs through the air, and we shot them to pieces in flight, before their bodies fell into the pit and into the water.'
pp. 205-206 ~ Timothy Snyder
On our second date, I picked up Missy at her house and told her we had to make a pit stop to pick up crawfish bait at the fish market. We'd figured out a way to speed up the process by using the fish market's gutbuckets instead of running nets ourselves. Through trial and error, we determined that the best crawfish bait was buffalo-fish heads. Unfortunately, when I pulled up to the market to get the garbage cans full of fish heads, I realized they had been outside for a couple of days. It was a warm day, and I could tell from the buzzing of hundreds of flies it was going to be nasty! I knew it was going to be the ultimate test of our relationship. The tubs were too heavy for one man to carry, so I told Missy, "I'm going to need your help on this." She crawled out the window, and I led her to the trash cans filled with buffalo heads waiting for us. Like an idiot, the first thing she did was open the lid of a trash can. Immediately, she started gagging and dry-heaving in the parking lot.
"Rule number two," I said. "Never pop the lid on a trash can."
Much to my surprise, Missy regained her composure and helped me load the trash cans into the back of my truck. Right then, I realized our relationship might work out. She was climbing through windows and hauling fish heads. ~ Jase Robertson
Other sounds woke the hamlet: the blast of a ship's foghorn blown at the pit top to mark the start of the shift; the echo of others - 'buzzers', as they were called - from the pits in the valley below. For the deep sleepers, there was the 'knocker-up'; a human alarm clock, he used a long pole to rattle the window panes of the households that paid him a few pennies each week. ~ Catherine Bailey
Bestigui, who was five feet six inches at the most, had pushed his way out from behind his desk now; as unafraid of the enormous Strike as a pit bull whose yard has been invaded by a Rottweiler. ~ Robert Galbraith
Well,that was fun," she said lightly as he maneuvered out of the lot. "I'm really glad you talked me into going out. My day was a blank page until seven."
That long, quiet moment lingered in his mind even as it lingered in Shelby's. Alan shifted, hoping to ease the thudding in the pit of his stomach. "Always happy to help someone fill in a few empty spaces." Alan controlled the speed of the car through force of will. Holding her hadn't soothed him but rather had only served to remind him how much time had passed since he had last held her.
"Actually you're an easy man to be with, Alan, for a politician." Easy? Shelby repeated to herself as she pressed the button to lower her window. Her blood was still throbbing from a meeting of eyes that had lasted less than ten seconds. If he was any easier, she'd be head over heels in love with him and headed for disaster. "I mean,you're not really pompous."
He shot her a look, long and cool, that boosted her confidence. "No?" he murmured after a humming silence.
"Hardly at all." Shelby sent him a smile. "Why,I'd probably vote for you myself."
Alan paused at a red light, studying it thoughtfully before he turned to her. "Your insults aren't as subtle today, Shelby."
"Insults?" Shelby gave him a bland stare. "Odd,I thought it was more flattery.Isn't a vote what it all comes down to? Votes, and that all-encompassing need to win."
The light stayed green for five full seconds before he cruised through it. "B ~ Nora Roberts
My world falls apart, crumbles, "The centre cannot hold." There is no integrating force, only the naked fear, the urge of self-preservation. I am afraid. I am not solid, but hollow. I feel behind my eyes a numb, paralysed cavern, a pit of hell, a mimicking nothingness. I never thought. I never wrote, I never suffered. I want to kill myself, to escape from responsibility, to crawl back abjectly into the womb. I do not know who I am, where I am going - and I am the one who has to decide the answers to these hideous questions. I long for a noble escape from freedom - I am weak, tired, in revolt from the strong constructive humanitarian faith which presupposes a healthy, active intellect and will. There is nowhere to go. ~ Sylvia Plath
Junior, stop being orner." It's what Mama used to say to us when we were little, and I say it to Junior out of habit. Daddy used to say it sometimes, too, until he said it to Randall one day and Randall started giggling, and then Daddy figured out Randall was laughing because it sounded like 'horny'. About a year ago I figured out what it was supposed to be after coming across its parent on the vocabulary list for my English class with Miss Dedeaux: 'ornery'. It made me wonder if there were other words Mama mashed like that. They used to pop up in my head sometime when I was doing the stupidest things: 'tetrified' when I was sweeping the kitchen and Daddy came in dripping beer and kicking chairs. 'Belove' when Manny was curling pleasure from me with his fingers in mid-swim in the pit. 'Freegid' when I was laying in bed in November, curled to the wall like I was going to burrow into another cover or I was making room for a body to lay behind me to make me warm. ~ Jesmyn Ward
The courthouse clock struck nine and it was getting late and it was really night on this small street in a small town in a big state on a large continent on a planet earth hurtling down the pit of space toward nowhere or somewhere and Tom feeling every mile of the long drop. ~ Ray Bradbury
Grow up, Beth. in the real world, bad boys are actually bad. They aren't heroes. It's not dope to hook up with them. Your home life problems aren't solved with my dick. Bad boys do bad shit and eventually drag everyone around them into the same hell pit. ~ Erin Watt
Oh ... I remember you ... You're that weird cat-eared cosplay-kid!
You called me a cospl ...
How'd you get all the way up to the third-floor window ...
Because I'm a cat. ~ Peach-Pit
You pluck flower after flower - it is never the flower. The flower itself - its calyx is a horrible gulf, it is the bottomless pit. ~ D.H. Lawrence
A bottomless pit of violence, a Tower of Babel where all are speakers and no hearers. ~ Alexander Smith
All my life I have been seeking to climb out of the pit of my besetting sins and I cannot do it and I never will unless a hand is let down to draw me up. ~ Seneca The Younger
I crawled back to bed, knowing I was done for. Hours later, the phone in our room started ringing. It was George. He was not happy.
"Room 312. Now!" he shouted.
Bouldy got up. I tried to pull myself together, splashing my face with water and hauling on my shorts and flip flops. It was a lovely day outside, the sun was scorching hot and there wasn't a cloud in the sky, but it might as well have been a pissing wet morning in St Albans for all I cared. I felt sick to the pit of my stomach as we made the Walk of Death to Room 312, which I knew was Paul and Gus's room.
When we walked in, I thought I'd arrived in downtown Baghdad. Water dripped from the ceiling. The board games were in pieces and all the plastic parts were scattered over the floor. The balcony window was wide open and I could see a bed upended by the pool outside. ~ Paul Merson
