My Headache Is Killing Me Quotes

In fact, it makes me mad when someone kills snakes or dogs or cats or horses. I don't even like to eat meat - that is how much I am against killing ... ~ Charles Manson

I am not in favor of killing - that for me is the line not to be crossed. ~ Margarethe Von Trotta

In this quiet, peaceful time of twilight there is, in this great circle of life, an awful lot of hunting and fishing and catching and killing and dying and eating going on all around me. As the old fisherman said, 'That's the way with life. Sometimes you eat well; sometimes you are well-eaten.' ~ Paul G. Quinnett

Memory, the whole lying opera of it, is killing me now. ~ Barry Hannah

A friend of mine, Phil Lomax, told me this story about a blind man with a pistol shooting at a man who had slapped him on the subway train and killing an innocent bystander peacefully reading his newspaper across the aisle and I thought, damn right, sounds just like today's news, riots in the ghettos, war in Vietnam, masochistic doings in the Middle East. And then I thought of some of our loudmouthed leaders urging our vulnerable soul brothers on to getting themselves killed, and thought further that all unorganized violence is like a blind man with a pistol. (Preface) ~ Chester Himes

You're telling me that Acheron, my boss, the really tall Atlantean pain in most of our asses, actually authorized the killing of a human?" – Sundown
"I can see your confusion. It is highly out of character for him. But since she's been killing off Hunters…I guess he figures it's tit for tat. Or maybe he's just having a really bad day." – Zarek ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

I've never quite mastered the art of holding my liquor," she replied. He watched her root around in her purse a moment, before pulling out a tube of lip balm.
As Jonas watched her apply it, he nearly got distracted from her answer. Leaning forward, Jonas murmured, "Can't hold your liquor, huh?"
She replaced the cap and dropped it back into her purse. "Not so much. I tend to get a bit too happy."
His eyebrows shot up and his cock came to full-alert status. Happy--he liked the sound of that. "And that's a bad thing?"
To his utter shock, Deanna blushed. "In my case it is."
Curiosity got the better of him. "Care to explain?"
The waiter returned with the check, forcing Jonas to drop the conversation while he fished out his credit card. Once they were alone again, Jonas waited, hoping Deanna would go into more detail. She didn't disappoint him. "All my inhibitions disappear. It's not a comfortable feeling for me."
She was killing him. An immediate picture of a carefree Deanna sprang to mind. He liked it a hell of a lot. "Most people enjoy letting it all hang out every once in a while. Taking life too seriously leads to an early grave."
"Maybe, but if I suddenly develop the urge, I'd rather be coherent."
"You don't like to give up control," he surmised.
She cocked her head to the side, as if unsure how to respond at first. "It's not that," she said. "I guess if I'm in the mood to go romping naked through a forest, for example, then ~ Anne Rainey

Lincoln, answering friends who advised him to seek protection against assassination: If they kill me the next man will be just as bad for them. In a country like this, where our habits are simple, and must be, assassination is always possible, and will come if they are determined upon it. ~ William Herndon

The pain of knowing is killing me more than killing me would kill me, so I jump just to end it. ~ Neal Shusterman

I'm kind of hoping it will end like this. You made me happy. Very happy. But…you deserve everything. Wife, kids, a white picket fence."

"And I'll have all of it. With you."
"You know that can't happen with me."
"Then it can't happen with anyone. There won't be a next Rosie. And there won't be another story like ours. This is it, Rose LeBlanc. And this is us. If there is no you, then there is no me."

"You know, I always hated Romeo and Juliet . The play. The movie. The very idea. It was tragic, all right. Tragically stupid. I mean, they were what? Thirteen? Sixteen? What a waste of life, to kill yourself because your family wouldn't let you get hitched. But Romeo and Juliet were right. I was the next eleven years killing myself slowly while I grieved for you. Then you came back, and I still thought it was just a fascination. But now that I know…"

"Now that I know that it can only ever be you, you're going to get better for me so Earth won't explode. Can you do that, Sirius? I promise not to leave this room until you get out. Not even for a shower. Not even to get you your chocolate chip cookies. I'll get someone to drive all the way to New York and bring them for you."

"I love you." Rosie's tears curtained her vision.
"I love you, Baby LeBlanc," I said. "So fucking much. You taught me how to love. How well did I do?"
"A-plus," she whispered. "You aced it. Can you promise me something?"
"Anything."
" L ~ L.J. Shen

You can't stop a soldier from being frightened but you can give him motivation to help him overcome that fear. I have no such motivation. I can't have. I'm a witcher: an artificially created mutant. I kill monsters for money. I defend children when their parents pay me to. If Nilfgaardian parents pay me, I'll defend Nilfgaardian children. And even if the world lies in ruin - which does not seem likely to me - I'll carry on killing monsters in the ruins of this world until some monster kills me. That is my fate, my reason, my life and my attitude to the world. And it is not what I chose. It was chosen for me. ~ Andrzej Sapkowski

Okay, fuck the sundial. We'll just go straight and eventually we'll get there. What I mean is that we'll get somewhere. Out of here. I mean, logically, we have to get out as long as we walk straight. I've done this millions of times. Whenever everything's killing me, I just say to myself, screw it, and go straight ahead. ~ Susan Orlean

January?
The month is dumb.
It is fraudulent.
It does not cleanse itself.
The hens lay blood-stained eggs.
Do not lend your bread to anyone
lest it nevermore rise.
Do not eat lentils or your hair will fall out.

Do not rely on February
except when your cat has kittens,
throbbing into the snow.
Do not use knives and forks
unless there is a thaw,
like the yawn of a baby.
The sun in this month
begets a headache
like an angel slapping you in the face.

Earthquakes mean March.
The dragon will move,
and the earth will open like a wound.
There will be great rain or snow
so save some coal for your uncle.
The sun of this month cures all.
Therefore, old women say:
Let the sun of March shine on my daughter,
but let the sun of February shine on my daughter-in-law.
However, if you go to a party
dressed as the anti-Christ
you will be frozen to death by morning.

During the rainstorms of April
the oyster rises from the sea
and opens its shell -
rain enters it -
when it sinks the raindrops
become the pearl.
So take a picnic,
open your body,
and give birth to pearls.

June and July?
These are the months
we call Boiling Water.
There is sweat on the cat but the grape
marries herself to the sun.

Hesitate in August.
Be shy.
Let your toes tremble ~ Anne Sexton THE SERMON OF THE TWELVE ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I admit I get the occasional headache," I said. "I admit some of my hangovers are epic. But usually all it takes for me to bounce back is a sauna, cold-plunge pool, steam bath, massage, and wasabi to clear the sinuses". ~ George Gurley

You realize I had half my guard out searching for you?" Eddard Stark said when they were alone. "Septa Mordane is beside herself with fear. She's in the sept praying for your safe return. Arya, you know you are never to go beyond the castle gates without my leave."
"I didn't go out the gates," she blurted. "Well, I didn't mean to. I was down in the dungeons, only they turned into this tunnel. It was all dark, and I didn't have a torch or a candle to see by, so I had to follow. I couldn't go back the way I came on account of the monsters. Father, they were talking about killing you! Not the monsters, the two men. They didn't see me, I was being still as stone and quiet as a shadow, but I heard them. They said you had a book and a bastard and if one Hand could die, why not a second? Is that the book? Jon's the bastard, I bet. ~ George R R Martin

People always come up to me and say that my smoking is bothering them ... Well, it's killing me! ~ Wendy Liebman

I've always been terrified of getting used to something that is actually killing me-a relationship or a job. But in those cases, you can count on a friend to say something. The Internet is different, because all my friends are in the same relationship. ~ Miranda July

My daughter is a real migraine sufferer; the minute she has a handful of Haribo sweets, she gets a headache. There's a connection between what the liver can't break down with what goes on to trigger a headache. You just have to be aware. ~ Sheherazade Goldsmith

Ronan was waiting in his family's stables. He played with the gloves in his hands as he stood watching Kestrel and Arin ride toward him.
"I thought you would take the carriage," Ronan said to Kestrel.
"To go riding? Really, Ronan."
"But your escort." His eyes cut to Arin sitting easily on the stallion. "I didn't think any of your slaves rode."
Kestrel watched Ronan tug at the gloves' fingers. "Is there a problem?"
"Now that you are here, certainly not." Yet his voice was strained.
"Because if you don't like the way in which I have come, you may ride to my house the next time you invite me, then escort me back to your estate, then see me safely home again, and go back the way you came."
He responded to her words as if they had been flirtatious. "It would be my pleasure. Speaking of pleasure, let's take some together." He mounted his horse.
"Where is Jess?"
"Sick with a headache."
Somehow Kestrel doubted that. She said nothing, however, and let Ronan lead the way out of the stables. She turned to follow, and Arin did the same.
Ronan glanced back, blond hair brushing over his shoulder. "Surely you don't intend for him to join us."
Arin's horse, perfectly calm up until this point, began to shift and balk. It was sensing the tension Kestrel couldn't see in its rider, who looked impassively at her, waiting for her to translate Ronan's words into Herrani so that he could pretend it was necessary. "Wait here," she told him i ~ Marie Rutkoski

If you kill me, you kill yourself.
[ ... ]
He only wanted to convey to Janegg the truth of ahimsa, which is that all beings were connected to each other in the deepest way and thus it was impossible to harm another without harming oneself. ~ David Zindell

Honesty is an undervalued commodity. Keeping secrets is the cancer that is slowly killing Matrus and Patrus. Given enough time, and lies, both places would fail, and the last vestiges of humanity would disappear from this earth. I don't have time for it. And also, I have found that honesty can inspire people. I won't let my people go into any situation against their will, and I won't lie to spare them uncomfortable truths about what they are getting into. It builds trust, and separates me from Matrus and Patrus. I don't have time to be anything but honest. ~ Bella Forrest

I've come to read and hear many unlikely things about the times when people lived in freedom, i.e., the unorganized savage state. But the most unlikely thing, it seems to me, is this: how could the olden day governmental power - primitive though it was - have allowed people to live without anything like our Table, without the scheduled walks, without the precise regulation of mealtimes, getting up and going to bed whenever it occurred to them? Various historians even say that, apparently, in those times, light burned in the streets all night long, and all night long, people rode and walked the streets. This I just cannot comprehend in any way. Their faculties of reason may not have been developed, but they must have understood more broadly that living like that amounted to mass murder - literally - only it was committed slowly, day after day. The State (humaneness) forbade killing to death any one person but didn't forbid the half-killing of millions. To kill a man, that is, to decrease the sum of a human life span by fifty years - this was criminal. But decreasing the sum of many humans' lives by fifty million years - this was not criminal. Isn't that funny? ~ Yevgeny Zamyatin

Maybe Christ will come again. Maybe seeds will be planted, maybe there'll be harvests then, maybe early figs to eat, maybe new life, maybe fresh blood, maybe companionship and love and protection, safety from what's outside, maybe the door will hold, or maybe ... Maybe the troubles will come, and the end will come, and the sky will collapse and there will be terrible rains and showers of poison light, or maybe my life is really fine, maybe Joe loves me and I'm only crazy thinking otherwise, or maybe not, maybe it's even worse than I know, maybe ... I want to know, maybe I don't. The suspense, Mr. Lies, it's killing me. ~ Tony Kushner

Mr Kingsley begins then by exclaiming- 'O the chicanery, the wholesale fraud, the vile hypocrisy, the conscience-killing tyranny of Rome! We have not far to seek for an evidence of it. There's Father Newman to wit: one living specimen is worth a hundred dead ones. He, a Priest writing of Priests, tells us that lying is never any harm.'
I interpose: 'You are taking a most extraordinary liberty with my name. If I have said this, tell me when and where.'
Mr Kingsley replies: 'You said it, Reverend Sir, in a Sermon which you preached, when a Protestant, as Vicar of St Mary's, and published in 1844; and I could read you a very salutary lecture on the effects which that Sermon had at the time on my own opinion of you.'
I make answer: 'Oh...NOT, it seems, as a Priest speaking of Priests-but let us have the passage.'
Mr Kingsley relaxes: 'Do you know, I like your TONE. From your TONE I rejoice, greatly rejoice, to be able to believe that you did not mean what you said.'
I rejoin: 'MEAN it! I maintain I never SAID it, whether as a Protestant or as a Catholic.'
Mr Kingsley replies: 'I waive that point.'
I object: 'Is it possible! What? waive the main question! I either said it or I didn't. You have made a monstrous charge against me; direct, distinct, public. You are bound to prove it as directly, as distinctly, as publicly-or to own you can't.'
'Well,' says Mr Kingsley, 'if you are quite sure you did not say it, I'll take your word for it; I rea ~ John Henry Newman

For most people, their family is the source of inner power and protection; mine is a killing collapsar. Communication with my parents is always such a stress; it's like a heavy burden I have to carry over my life… I never felt I really had a family: instead, there was a kind of a coalition of enemies unfriendly to me. The worst thing is that everlasting negativity in the environment constantly sucks the live energy out. ~ Sahara Sanders

If he is to die in a few hours, I want all of his germs, all of his fluids, everything he can give me.

But he'd better not die, because I will lose my shit and start killing people myself. ~ Jessica Clare

I deny the fact that when I kill time, time is actually killing me ~ Eric Gamalinda

The difference between me and other people in my generation is instead of saying the Internet's killing the record business, I say, 'Who cares about the record business, the Internet is enhancing music.' ~ Daryl Hall

For me, diversity is not a value. Diversity is what you find in Northern Ireland. Diversity is Beirut. Diversity is brother killing brother. Where diversity is shared - where I share with you my difference - that can be valuable. But the simple fact that we are unlike each other is a terrifying notion. I have often found myself in foreign settings where I became suddenly aware that I was not like the people around me. That, to me, is not a pleasant discovery. ~ Richard Rodriguez

Time is life. Anyone who wastes my time is killing me. Please don't! ~ Phyllis Chesler

Many years ago, I was fishing, and as I was reeling in the poor fish, I realized, 'I am killing him?all for the passing pleasure it brings me.' And something inside me clicked. I realized as I watched him fight for breath, that his life was as important to him as mine is to me. ~ Paul McCartney

The very thing keeping me alive is also killing me - love. No wonder the rose symbolizes both love and death. They should have a deal where if you buy a dozen roses you get a free headstone. ~ Jarod Kintz

In view of the possibility of finding meaning in suffering, life's meaning is an unconditional one, at least potentially. That unconditional meaning, however, is paralleled by the unconditional value of each and every person. It is that which warrants the indelible quality of the dignity of man. Just as life remains potentially meaningful under any conditions, even those which are most miserable, so too does the value of each and every person stay with him or her, and it does so because it is based on the values that he or she has realized in the past, and is not contingent on the usefulness that he or she may or may not retain in the present.

More specifically, this usefulness is usually defined in terms of functioning for the benefit of society. But today's society is characterized by achievement orientation, and consequently it adores people who are successful and happy and, in particular, it adores the young. It virtually ignores the value of those who are otherwise, and in so doing blurs the decisive difference between being valuable in the sense of dignity and being valuable in the sense of usefulness. If one is not cognizant of this difference and holds that na individual's value stems only from his present usefulness, then, believe me, one owes it only to personal inconsistency not to plead for euthanasia along the lines of Hitler's program, that is to say, "mercy" killing of all those who have lost their social usefulness, be it because of old age, incurab ~ Viktor E. Frankl

You think too much.'
'I suppose I do; but I can't help it, my mind is so terribly active. When I give myself, I give myself. I pay the penalty in my headaches, my famous headaches
a perfect circlet of pain! But I carry it as a queen carries her crown. ~ Henry James

I know you. I see into you. Your heart is my heart. Your breath is my breath. Your soul is my soul. Your pain… your pain is my fucking pain. So don't expect me to believe you when you say you stopped loving me, because I looked you in the eye when you said goodbye to me, bluebird. My heart broke when yours did. My lungs stopped breathing when yours did. My soul hurt when yours did. My pain felt like it was killing me, just like yours did. You loved me then. You never stopped. You still love me now, the same way I still fucking love you. ~ Callie Hart

This "sir, yes sir" business, which would probably sound like horseshit to any civilian in his right mind, makes sense to Shaftoe and to the officers in a deep and important way. Like a lot of others, Shaftoe had trouble with military etiquette at first. He soaked up quite a bit of it growing up in a military family, but living the life was a different matter. Having now experienced all the phases of military existence except for the terminal ones (violent death, court-martial, retirement), he has come to understand the culture for what it is: a system of etiquette within which it becomes possible for groups of men to live together for years, travel to the ends of the earth, and do all kinds of incredibly weird shit without killing each other or completely losing their minds in the process. The extreme formality with which he addresses these officers carries an important subtext: your problem, sir, is deciding what you want me to do, and my problem, sir, is doing it. My gung-ho posture says that once you give the order I'm not going to bother you with any of the details--and your half of the bargain is you had better stay on your side of the line, sir, and not bother me with any of the chickenshit politics that you have to deal with for a living. The implied responsibility placed upon the officer's shoulders by the subordinate's unhesitating willingness to follow orders is a withering burden to any officer with half a brain, and Shaftoe has more than once seen seasoned noncom ~ Neal Stephenson

My mind is killing me
- The Glass Child, Stuck In My Mind ~ Charlotte Eriksson

Well, I mean, if someone is going to kill my husband, I think it should be me. Don't you agree?"
I do indeed," Emmie said. "I made the same argument myself just a week ago. ~ Robert Bruce Stewart

You look happy," he said to Clary. He swiveled his gaze to Jace. "And a good thing for you that she does."
Jace raised an eyebrow. "Is this the part where you tell me that if I hurt her, you'll kill me?"
"No," said Simon, "If you hurt Clary, she's quite capable of killing you herself. Possibly with a variety of weapons."
Jace looked pleased by the thought. ~ Cassandra Clare