My So Called Bollywood Life Quotes

When I first got into this biz called show, I decided I was going to change my name, make it more Hollywood. And you know how you do that? You take your middle name and the first street that you ever lived on. So when I first started, I actually went by Sue Rural Route 2. ~ Bonnie McFarlane

If it weren't for her, one way or another I'd be another bloated corpse staining the NeoPacific.

So when I lie back and roll onto my side, I decide I'm not bunking back to back with the girl who kept me from sparing Durga or the girl who dragged me aboard the Minnow and threw me into a janitorial closet. She's not the girl who slammed me into a wall a minutes ago or the girl who called me a shoregirl like it was the height of an insult.

I'm just going to sleep next to the girl who saved my life. ~ Emily Skrutskie

At the time of solitude, I went where Narmada was sleeping. She got awake and sat up. She neither got scared nor nervous but she immediately got off the bed. She kept both her hands tied on her chest. I was standing so close to her that my face was near her face. We could sense each other's breath.

I called out her name and could not speak anything else.

After a moment, I started - "I love you Narmada…I like to be with you…I want to marry you."

She got nervous and said - "Please, go to your room, why have you come here? It may cause trouble if Jaanki sees us like this." She was neck down. Her eyes were on the floor. Her heart was beating fast.

"Don't you want to talk to me? Why are you angry with me? Why don't you trust on my feelings for you?" - I softly asked her.

"I guess you don't like my friendship with Varsha. You and Varsha are poles apart." - I added.

She said - "You please go. It would not be nice if someone sees us like this. I do not want anything from you."

I said - "But I am dying for you and I know you too are made for me."

Her eyes suddenly fell on maid behind the curtains of the door who was trying to listen to our conversation. Narmada said - "You please leave right now, we'll talk later. Mom is not at home."

I went by on her prescriptive tone.

She was fighting for her self-being and the reason was only Varsha. She felt suffocated with my friendshi ~ Laxman Rao

I started writing because it was hard to find acting jobs. I didn't like any monologues in auditions, so I started to write my own things. Since then, I have written a couple of shows. I was nominated for playwright of the year for a play I wrote called 'Potential Space.' ~ Kirsten Vangsness

What does kiciciyapi mitawa mean?"
He kept his head on her breasts. "What?"
"You called me kicicyapi mitawa. It sounded so beautiful. It wasn't Japanese. What was it?"
"It's the voice of the Lakota. It would sound silly in English." He cupped her breast, his fingers moving lightly over her skin. His breath warm on her heart.
"I want to know. It didn't sound silly when you said it. It sounded ... beautiful. It made me feel beautiful. And loved."
He kissed her breast. "I called you my heart. And you are. ~ Christine Feehan

An individual is a complex, indefinable object. And so only the individual possesses something that can without lying be called existence. As the Cynic philosophers already knew, nothing real, nothing concrete is definable.

The necessities of thought, speech, of science and action force us to act as if the definable exists. Let us consent to this, while all the while smiling at the inevitable.

But we should never forget that no word can give us the essence of a being, not even my own essence, and that no thought, whatever good will and sympathy might animate it, will ever penetrate the essence of another. Our most beautiful, strongest, most penetrating truths glory - modestly - in being but lesser lies.

The more I strive to seize the concrete, the more my formulas become complex and hesitant, then the more I become irritated at not being able to make them flexible and mobile. Whenever I pronounce absolute words I know I am speaking in the abstract and that I am speaking of the void. ~ Han Ryner

My hope and prayer for all who read this book is a reformation - that an army of African-American men will make their way back into the church, back into the leadership of the church, back into leading a change in the church to be and do what it is called to be and do, so that we may have power to do good for our people, and people all over the world, in a way that no government or service organization has been or will be able to do, and that no one will be able to take away. ~ Eric Redmond

I'm not sure if you've noticed this yet, but Jenny Sullivan likes to overuse people's first names. It's a technique she read about in a book called Own It - Take Life By The Bollocks. She once said my name so many times I disconnected from it entirely. ~ Claire Garber

I've thought a lot about what it means to be the President. I also understand an administration is not one person but an administration is dedicated citizens who are called by the President to serve the country, to serve a cause greater than self. And so I've thought about an administration of people who represent all America, but people who understand my compassionate and conservative philosophy. ~ George W. Bush

The so-called "secondary market" has also always been something that I'm comfortable with. I'm not a dealer who turns his nose up at that part of the business. I'm an art dealer - my primary responsibility is to represent the artist. ~ Larry Gagosian

My lady," says Aladdin, extending an arm toward the sun, "I give you gold as a token of my love."
"All I want is you," I reply. I turn and kiss him, pulling him against me, feeling the warmth of the dawn in my hair. Then I rest my head on his shoulder, simply feeling his arms around me, his heart beating against me.
"Are you cold?" asks Aladdin. "You're shivering."
"A little."
"I'll go get a blanket. And breakfast. If I can find the kitchen."
"Galley, love. It's called a galley."
"Right. Galley. Got it. I'll ask the captain. What was his name?"
"Sinbad, I think?"
"I'll be right back."
But I catch his hand. "I'm all right. Don't go yet."
He stays with me, and together we watch the sun stain the sea and sky a thousand and one shades of gold. My thumb rubs the ring on my finger, its dents and contours as familiar to me now as my hand.
So this is what it feels like to have all your wishes come true. ~ Jessica Khoury

I model my life after my Lord and Master Jesus Christ and his life. He has called me into God's family and I am a representative for him so I just try to be obedient to what He asks me to do. ~ Ben Zobrist

My name is James Edward Franco. Ted is a nickname for Edward. That's what my parents called me. I also got 'Teddy Ruxpin' a lot. It just got to a point where I got sick of it, so when a teacher called out 'James Franco' my junior year of high school, I didn't correct her. ~ James Franco

I love it when a woman hugs me. I love it when they say that I make them laugh because that means I'm doing what God called me to do. I love people. I love it when little old ladies come up and want to kiss me. It means so much to me that I get support and people know my heart. My fans know my heart and they get it. ~ Sherri Shepherd

For our part, we thought we would be following her path from a distance in the press. Our friends called to tell us when the photo of Diana pushing Patrick in his stroller appeared in Newsweek, or when our name was mentioned in a news magazine or paper. We were generally mislabeled as the Robinsons. Everyone asked if we would be going to the wedding, and we would reply, "Us? No, of course not." We truly never expected to hear from Diana again, so her January letter became especially precious to us.
We were stunned when a letter from Diana on Buckingham Palace stationary arrived in late March. She was clearly happy, writing, "I am on a cloud." She missed Patrick "dreadfully." She hoped that we were all "settled down by now, including your cat too--." Diana had never even seen our cat. We'd left him with my brother because England requires a six-month quarantine for cats and dogs. How did she ever remember we had one?
Then, "I will be sending you an invitation to the wedding, naturally. . . ." The wedding . . . naturally . . . God bless her. Maybe we weren't going to lose her after all. She even asked me to send a picture of Patrick to show to "her intended(!), since I'm always talking about him." As for her engagement, she could never even have imagined it the year before. She closed with her typical and appealing modesty: "I do hope you don't mind me writing to you but just had to let you know what was going on."
Mind? I was thrilled and touched and amazed by h ~ Mary Robertson

Ryder, we got a problem," Ristan called from beyond the other side of the etched-glass shower door.
"Someone had better be dying, Ristan," Ryder growled when he'd pulled
away from kissing me.
"They might be. You need to come see this."
"We will be right there," Ryder called out as I slid down his hard body.
He watched me with a smirk and then placed his hand on my arm to move me from beneath the water, so he could rinse off. I watched him, unable to pull my eyes off of his hands as they roved over his body.He was quicksand,
and I was sinking.
"Did you say we?" Ristan asked.
I blushed from my head to my Paint Your Toron-Toes Rose colored toenails. I opened the shower door and stepped out meeting Ristan's eyes. "Don't ask."
"How the ... did you sift into his shower?" he asked, bubbling with laughter.
"I said don't ask! It wasn't my fault. I was sleeping!" I shouted as both men laughed even harder.
"Real mature, just real fucking mature! ~ Amelia Hutchins

I would often get called in to play a very loud, obnoxious - which, truth be told, I can be loud and obnoxious. My issue was when it was like a ghetto girl; I didn't think I was good at it; I didn't feel authentic. And so I had insecurities about going in on it. ~ Retta

Growing up in New Orleans, my mom and dad were churchgoers. I would go to church with them. Also, I was going to a Catholic school so I had a fascination with the Catholic Church mainly because, in my mind, (their services) didn't take as long. I was bouncing in between my mom's Baptist church, which was called Second Zion Baptist, and going to a Catholic Church. ~ Avery Johnson

This was inspired by my pediatrician, a relatively young man whom I called Dr. Handsome. I had assumed this was because his name was Dr. Hasen or Dr. Branson, but I recently found out his name was Dr. Ritger, so I guess I should have just died at age four when I decided to call my physician Dr. Handsome without so much as a pun to justify it. ~ Anna Kendrick

Where am I?" Magnus croaked.
"Nazca."
"Oh, so we went on a little trip."
"You broke into a man's house," Catarina said. "You stole a carpet and enchanted it to fly. Then you sped off into the night air. We pursued you on foot."
"Ah," said Magnus.
"You were shouting some things."
"What things?"
"I prefer not to repeat them," Catarina said. "I also prefer not to remember the time we spent in the desert. It is a mammoth desert, Magnus. Ordinary deserts are quite large. Mammoth deserts are so called because they are larger than ordinary deserts."
"Thank you for that interesting and enlightening information," Magnus croaked.
"You told us to leave you in the desert, because you planned to start a new life as a cactus," Catarina said, her voice flat. "Then you conjured up tiny needles and threw them at us. With pinpoint accuracy."
"Well," he said with dignity. "Considering my highly intoxicated state, you must have been impressed with my aim."
"'Impressed' is not the word to use to describe how I felt last night, Magnus."
"I thank you for stopping me there," Magnus said. "It was for the best. You are a true friend. No harm done. Let's say no more about it. Could you possibly fetch me - "
"Oh, we couldn't stop you," Catarina interrupted. "We tried, but you giggled, leaped onto the carpet, and flew away again. You kept saying that you wanted to go to Moquegua."
"What did I do in Moquegua?"
"You never got there, ~ Cassandra Clare

So this book is a sidewalk strewn with junk, trash which I throw over my shoulders as I travel in time back to November eleventh, nineteen hundred and twenty-two.
I will come to a time in my backwards trip when November eleventh, accidentally my birthday, was a sacred day called Armistice Day. When I was a boy, and when Dwayne Hoover was a boy, all the people of all the nations which had fought in the First World War were silent during the eleventh minute of the eleventh hour of Armistice Day, which was the eleventh day of the eleventh month.
It was during that minute in nineteen hundred and eighteen, that millions upon
millions of human beings stopped butchering one another. I have talked to old men who were on battlefields during that minute. They have told me in one way or another that the sudden silence was the Voice of God. So we still have among us some men who can remember when God spoke clearly to mankind. ~ Kurt Vonnegut

My so-called love for humanity, for instance, isn't something I get to carry around in my heart. It has to find application among the weird, desperate people who populate my daily experience. It has to put on flesh. If it doesn't, I might take pleasure in the warm, fuzzy feeling of my personal, private faith, but it wouldn't be appropriate to call it Christianity. ~ David Dark

I didn't see Danny come in or run towards me. He was just suddenly there, pulling me up by my arm so hard that I gasped. I felt his grip on my skin long after he let go. We ran down the steps where Mom met us, coughing. She was followed by a thick black cloud of smoke. I had never felt smoke that hot in my life. I tasted ash when I breathed in.
"Go! Get out!" she choked, waving us towards the front door.
We ran out into the night in our pajamas.
"Run to Violet's!" Mom called behind us.

- The Stable House ~ Laura Smith

I pass off a few more résumés and jet away from her and that cinnamon smell, reserving the last paper in my hand so I can finish reading it. "Whoa - hello. What's this?" I mumble, staring at the paper. "Jess Jordan's How to be Normal Checklist, by Kika Jordan? Who's Kika?" I laugh.

The way her face has turned whiter than the ice at the sports complex, I think this paper is no joke.

"Kika's my little sister. Hand that over!"

Do the right thing. Like she said, this is private information. None of my business.

Only, it could possibly be my business.

Indirectly. Not her fault…not mine…

Jess's eyes have turned wild, exposed. "She made the list for me - as a joke. It's revenge. Last week I made her one on personal hygiene called: How NOT to Repel All Mankind. ~ Anne Eliot

The problem with having so many people call me by nicknames was that when someone called me by my actual name, it usually meant something serious was happening. ~ Richelle Mead

Really?" I whispered.
He crossed his arms on his chest and stated, "Babe, you think I found the woman of my
dreams at forty-five years old and I'm gonna let anything happen to her, think again. That's a long fuckin' time to wait for what you want. I waited. I
found it. I'm pullin' out all the stops to take care of it. I know you feel the same for me so I'm doin' the same to keep me safe for you. So yeah, really, I
called Delgado. I made peace and asked a favor. His woman is in your posse so she wouldn't be doin' cartwheels, he said no and something went
down with you or, for you, me. And he isn't dumb, he's a man who knows to collect favors and he's a man
whose business means he often has the need to call markers. So his ear's to the ground and his eyes are open so if a cop isn't cruisin' by your
house or bakery, one of Lee's boys or one of Hawk's commandos are. Smart people pay attention to who's cruisin' around people they want to fuck
with and smart people will see cops, Nightingale's men and Delgado's crazy motherfuckers and, my hope is, they'll steer clear. So, there you go.
Now you got a full explanation of what I mean when I say you're on radar."
I heard all he said, I really did.
But I was stuck at the beginning part where he told me I was the woman of his dreams. ~ Kristen Ashley

Nobody loves me, nobody cares,
Nobody picks me peaches and pears.
Nobody offers me candy and Cokes,
Nobody listens and laughs at me jokes.
Nobody helps when I get into a fight,
Nobody does all my homework at night.
Nobody misses me,
Nobody cries,
Nobody thinks I'm a wonderful guy.
So, if you ask me who's my best friend, in a whiz,
I'll stand up and tell you NOBODY is!
But yesterday night I got quite a scare
I woke up and Nobody just WASN'T there!
I called out and reached for Nobody's hand,
In the darkness where Nobody usually stands,
Then I poked through the house, in each cranny and nook,
But I found SOMEBODY each place that I looked.
I seached till I'm tired, and now with the dawn,
There's no doubt about it-
NOBODY'S GONE!! ~ Shel Silverstein

I one evening overtook one of my townsmen, who has accumulated what is called "a handsome property" - though I never got a fair view of it - on the Walden road, driving a pair of cattle to market, who inquired of me how I could bring my mind to give up so many of the comforts of life. I answered that I was very sure I liked it passably well; I was not joking. And so I went home to my bed, and left him to pick his way through the darkness and the mud to Brighton - or Bright-town - which place he would reach some time in the morning. ~ Henry David Thoreau

Dear Brave People,

I realise that it appears I'm fearless. I can make that presentation with ease, I can stand near the edge of the cliff and look down, and I can befriend that spider in the bathroom. (He's called Steve).
But recently I've realised that's not what makes people brave. Brave has a different meaning.
I'm afraid of people leaving. After I watched my best friend become someone else's and I was forced into befriending my childhood bully, I realised I don't want to let myself go through this again. I see my fear come through when questioning my boyfriend;s affections. I see it when I distance myself from my friends who are going to leave for university. Isee it in my overanalysis of my parents' relationship and paranoia over a possible divorce.
I don't want to be alone.
I'm afraid of failure. I aced my exams and the bar has moved up again. I have those high expectations along with everyone else, but I know now that maybe the tower is just too tall, and I should've built stronger foundations. I act like I know what I'm doing, but really I'm drifting away from the shore faster and faster.
I don't want to let anyone down.
I'm afraid of change. I don't know where I lie anymore. I thought I knew what to do in my future, but I can't bear to think that I'm now not so sure. I thought I was completely straight, but now it's internal agony as I'm not so sure. Turns out I thought a lot of things.
I don't want my life to ~ Emily Trunko

He yearned for privacy and for solitude. After my transportation to a so-called "rest camp," I had the rare fortune to find solitude for about five minutes at a time. ~ Viktor E. Frankl

What does it mean to be Indigenous and to have ties to the person of Jesus without being tied to the destructive, colonizing institution of the church? It is a constant decolonizing. It is a constant longing for interaction with others who, following the Universal Christ, as Richard Rohr calls it, can take on the hope of a decolonizing faith. It is sharing space with Black people, Indigenous people, and other people of color, and letting our experiences shape each other. It means interacting with my white friends, having really difficult conversations, and facing my own privilege in that conversation as well. Deconstruction and decolonization can be partners, along with grief and truth-telling. May we learn from this community that we are called to the bigger work ahead of us, so that, together, we know what it means to return to Mystery that has always wanted all of us. May we do this work together so that, each day that we move on, we are building a future that is made for everyone. ~ Kaitlin B. Curtice

(Note: I realize this is horrifying. Just keep reading.)

"Turn to Leviticus 20:13, because I actually discovered the cure for AIDS. If a man also lie with mankind, as he lieth with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination: they shall surely be put to death. Their blood shall be upon them. And that, my friend, is the cure for AIDS. It was right there in the Bible all along - and they're out spending billions of dollars in research and testing. It's curable - right there. Because if you executed the homos like God recommends, you wouldn't have all this AIDS running rampant."

This is an American pastor openly calling for the death of all homosexuals. The anti-gay movement is now so extreme, some, (not all) call for genocide. So how about instead of Alex from Target or pumpkin spice lattes, we get this out on the media. Because this is disgusting. No one should have to be called worthless, better in death, for a problem they did not cause. AIDS did not start with homosexuals, and it's not going to end with them. The only thing that has to end is hate like this. ~ Anomymous Pastor And Myself

It was not easy to go from being one of the seven righteous pillars holding up the whole planet and human race to being just another mental patient. I remember talking to a woman who was ending racism and asking her if it was part of a bigger program or if racism was the whole deal. As someone who had gone back to the beginning of time and dealt with issues of whether or not life itself was a good idea, I wasn't sure that just getting rid of racism was a big enough prize.

....In the eighties when I was called out of retirement to defeat communism, it was over my strenuous objections. "I don't even dislike communism all that much," I objected. "It seems so beside the point." "The Republicans are going to take credit for this and ride it into the ground," I correctly predicted. After winning many many preliminary rounds which I honestly hoped I'd lose, I was smuggled into what was thought to be just another psychiatric hospital where the Russian bear took one look at me, declined to dance, and the rest is history. My delusional world always felt kind of tinny and hollow, but that never helped me get out of it. ~ Mark Vonnegut

In the first sixteen years of my life, my parents took me to at least a dozen so called professionals. Not one of them ever came close to figuring out wheat was wrong with me. In their defense, I will concede that Asperger's did not yet exist as a diagnosis, but autism did, and no one ever mentioned I might have any kind of autistic spectrum disorder. Autism was viewed by many as a much more extreme condition - one where kids never talked and could not take care of themselves. Rather than take a close sympathetic look at me, it proved easier and less controversial for the professionals to say I was just lazy, or angry, or defiant. But none of those words led to a solution to my problem. ~ John Elder Robison

Eventually, I developed my own image of teh "befriending" impulse behind my depression. Imagine that from early in my life, a friendly figure, standing a block away, was trying to get my attention by shouting my name, wanting to teach me some hard but healing truths about myself. But I-- fearful of what I might hear or arrogantly trying to live wihtout help or simply too busy with my ideas and ego and ethics to bother-- ignored teh shouts and walked away.

So this figure, still with friendly intent, came closer and shouted more loudly, but AI kept walking. Ever closer it came, close enough to tap me on the shoulder, but I walked on. Frustrated by my unresponsiveness, the figure threw stones at my back, then struck me with a stick, still wanting simply to get my attention. But despite teh pain, I kept walking away.

Over teh years, teh befriending intent of this figure never disapppeared but became obscured by the frustration cuased by my refusal to turn around. Since shouts and taps, stones and sticks had failed to do the trick, there was only one thing left: drop the nuclear bomb called depression on me, not with the intent to kill but as a last-ditch effort to get me to turn and ask the simple question, "What do you want?" When I was finally able to make the turn-- and start to absorb and act on the self-knowledge that then became available to me-- I began to get well.

The figure calling to me all those years was, I believe, what Thomas Merto ~ Parker J. Palmer

And then last, but oh, so utterly
first, came George Eliot. It was in the days
when her cult was at its height - thank heaven
I never left her shrine! - and we used to wait
outside Macmillan's shop to seize the new
instalments of Daniel Deronda. She came
for a few minutes to my room, and I was
almost senseless with excitement. I had just
repapered my room with the newest thing in
dolorous Morris papers. Some one must have
called her attention to it, for I remember that
she said in her shy, impressive way, "Your
paper makes a beautiful background for your
face." The ecstasy was too much, and I
knew no more. ~ Jane Ellen Harrison