Razored Shag Quotes

I reached this one, said my friend, by sitting upon five pillows and consuming an ounce of shag. I think, Watson, that if we drive to Baker-street we shall just be in time for breakfast. ~ Arthur Conan Doyle

Don't drive drunk. Ever. Don't shag anyone you don't like, or who doesn't like you. Get a look at how people live in a place where you don't. Suffering is over-rated, don't pursue it. Ask for help when you need it, don't when you don't, and learn to recognize the difference. Don't confuse movement and progress. Be kind. Be forgiving. Pay attention. ~ Christopher Moore

As you can see," I gestured to each of my appendages, "I am just fine. No need to worry." I almost added "your pretty little head" but I wasn't in the mood to pick up my teeth from the shag carpet. ~ J.A. Kazimer

Nah, mostly they're just students. Bit of weed, bit of booze, bit of studying, bit of pining away in their rooms wondering why nobody wants to shag them. ~ Stuart MacBride

When I say 'I love you' I don't mean that I love what being with you does for my career, or I love how often you're willing to shag. I mean I love you. I love making you laugh, and seeing how you react to things, and getting to know the little things about you. I love who I am with you, and I'm trusting you not to hurt me. ~ Christina Lauren

[Adapted and condensed Valedictorian speech:]

I'm going to ask that you seriously consider modeling your life, not in the manner of the Dalai Lama or Jesus - though I'm sure they're helpful - but something a bit more hands-on, Carassius auratus auratus, commonly known as the domestic goldfish. People make fun of the goldfish. People don't think twice about swallowing it. Jonas Ornata III, Princeton class of '42, appears in the Guinness Book of World Records for swallowing the greatest number of goldfish in a fifteen-minute interval, a cruel total of thirty-nine. In his defense, though, I don't think Jonas understood the glory of the goldfish, that they have magnificent lessons to teach us. If you live like a goldfish, you can survive the harshest, most thwarting of circumstances. You can live through hardships that make your cohorts - the guppy, the neon tetra - go belly-up at the first sign of trouble. There was an infamous incident described in a journal published by the Goldfish Society of America - a sadistic five-year-old girl threw hers to the carpet, stepped on it, not once but twice - luckily she'd done it on a shag carpet and thus her heel didn't quite come down fully on the fish. After thirty harrowing seconds she tossed it back into its tank. It went on to live another forty-seven years. They can live in ice-covered ponds in the dead of winter. Bowls that haven't seen soap in a year. And they don't die from neglect, not immediately. They hold on for thre ~ Marisha Pessl

My desire for my own sitcom began as a little girl - I spent hours lying on my belly on the shag carpeting getting lost in the world of the '70s sitcom. All I wanted to do was run away to the Brady house, The Partridge Family bus; even the project on 'Good Times' seemed better than Clark, NJ. ~ Judy Gold

The whole island was exactly what a kid growing up in some trailer park
say some dump like Tecumseh Lake, Georgia
would dream about. This kid would turn out all the lights in the trailer while her mom was at work. She'd lie down flat on her back, on the matted-down orange shag carpet in the living room. The carpet smelling like somebody stepped in a dog pile. The orange melted black in spots from cigarette burns. The ceiling was water-stained. she'd fold her arms across her chest, and she could picture life in this kind of place. It would be that time
late at night
when your ears reach out for any sound. When you can see more with your eyes closed than open. The fish skeleton. From the first time she held a crayon, that's what she'd draw. ~ Chuck Palahniuk

How happily we explored our shiny new world! We lived like characters from the great books I curled up with in the big Draylon armchair. Like Jack Kerouak, like Gatsby, we created ourselves as we went along, a raggle-taggle of gypsies in old army overcoats and bell-bottoms, straggling through the fields that surrounded our granite farmhouse in search of firewood, which we dragged home and stacked in the living room. Ignorant and innocent, we acted as if the world belonged to us, as though we would ever have taken the time to hang the regency wallpaper we damaged so casually with half-rotten firewood, or would have known how to hang it straight, or smooth the seams. We broke logs against the massive tiled hearth and piled them against the sooty fire back, like the logs were tradition and we were burning it, like chimney fires could never happen, like the house didn't really belong to the poor divorcee who paid the rates and mortgage even as we sat around the flames like hunter gatherers, smoking Lebanese gold, chanting and playing the drums, dancing to the tortured music of Luke's guitar. Impelled by the rhythm, fortified by poorly digested scraps of Lao Tzu, we got up to dance, regardless of the coffee we knocked over onto the shag carpet. We sopped it up carelessly, or let it sit there as it would; later was time enough. We were committed to the moment.




Everything was easy and beautiful if you looked at it right. If someone was angry, we walked d ~ Claire Robson

Self-doubt is a persuasive mistress; careful not to shag her or you'll never get your balls back. - Simon Hunt ~ Dannika Dark

Men who would letterspace lower case would shag sheep. ~ Frederic Goudy

I hear women are posting their phone numbers on the site for you." Accompanied by sexy videos and photos.
Judd's eyes gleamed. "Not after Brenna hacked the site and plastered a message on their homepage pointing out that I'm very happily mated to a wolf with sharp teeth, razored claws, and a wild case of insane jealousy." A small smile that was nonetheless, quietly satisfied. "She also uploaded several gruesome photos of feral wolf kills. ~ Nalini Singh

That's life. It's a series of knock-down, drag-out fights with yourself and others that will leave you lying on the ground bruised and bloody and drooling all over your shag carpeting. But all that doesn't define you, your reaction to it does. Your environment doesn't make you who you are, your choices - your beliefs, do. ~ J.S.B. Morse

My bedroom is my sanctuary. It's the only place in the house that has a beautiful lush shag rug, which is my favorite. ~ Evangeline Lilly

I like to think that Harry Cohn is having a somewhat difficult time sleeping in his grave thinking of a chick with a white shag rug taking over his space. ~ Betsy Beers

No one's ever going to shag you if you cry all the time. ~ Richard Kelly

Must be nice to be a seagull. You eat, you sleep, you shag, and if you're having a bad day you can shite on everyone from a great height. Doesn't even have to be a bad day, you can do it just for fun. ~ Stuart MacBride

Since you and Crispin are now finished and I have a few hours to kill, how about that shag?" he asked with heavy irony.
"Bite me," I sighed, gathering up the pages.
He winked. "Of course. My second-favorite thing to do in bed. ~ Jeaniene Frost

He felt her hand curl in the material of his shirt, and it was a glorious goddamn feeling. So if presented with an unknown threat, she would consider him the lesser of the two evils. Right. He could work with that. Some marriages had been founded on less, and he merely wanted to shag her senseless. ~ Tessa Bailey

His mistake. Eve, do you want to talk to Mira about this?"


"No." She considered it another moment, then shook her head and repeated, "No, not now anyway. Dumping on you levels it out a little. Taking him down, all the way down - that'll take care of the rest."


For a moment she studied their joined hands, then shifted her gaze up to his. "I didn't want to tell you I'd been scared, much less why. I guess that was stupid."


"It was."


She scowled. "Aren't you supposed to say something like 'No, it wasn't. Blah, blah, support, stroke, let me get you some chocolate'?"


"You haven't read the marriage handbook, footnotes. It's another woman who does that sort of thing. I believe I'm allowed to be more blunt, then ask if you'd like a quick shag."


"Shag yourself," she said and made him laugh. "But thanks anyway."


"Offer's always on the table."


"Yeah, yeah, and the floor, in the closet, or on the front stairs. Time to work, ace, not to play. ~ J.D. Robb

Most importantly, we shag at least twice a day. It's proper sex, relaxed and unhurried, no done on the sly. ~ Irvine Welsh

Voluptuous?"
Grey smiled at the naughty light in her gaze. "A full subscription. Perhaps you will discover between the pages other activities you would like to sample with me."
It wasn't much of a gift, certainly not an expensive one, but Rose embraced him as though he had given her the world-and he had the wine stains on his cuffs to prove it. "Thank you!" She kissed his cheek. "Oh, Grey, thank you so much!"
"It's only a magazine, Rose, but you are welcome."
She pulled back so that he could see her face, the delighted flush in her cheeks. "It's not just a magazine. It's a gesture of…trust and respect. Do you know how many husbands would forbid their wives to read such literature?"
Yes, he did, and he would hardly call it literature. "I'm of the opinion that a husband can only benefit from his wife reading this kind of material."
A coy, seductive-wonderfully wicked-smile curved her full lips. "Perhaps we will both benefit."
He could shag her senseless right then and there. He gave her back her wine instead, and positioned himself with his back against the headboard. He tugged her close, turning her so that she sat with her back against his chest. "Read to me."
She looked horrified at the idea. "What? No, I couldn't."
Grey trailed his fingers down the side of her neck, smiling smugly as she shivered. "Read it. Please."
Her fingers trembled slightly as they parted the pages. "What would you like to hear?"
"A story," he repl ~ Kathryn Smith

You're just jealous of my beard."
"No. No, really not. It makes you look like you've got a ferret trying to shag your chin. ~ FayJay

I realize that the English language is sadly devoid of names for people like me. I try to cut the world some slack for this every day. All day. And the day after that, too. But the truth is that every time I am misgendered, a tiny little sliver of me disappears, A tiny little sliver of me is reminded that I do not fit ... I remember that the truth of me is invisible, and a tiny little sliver of me disappears. Just a sliver, razored from the surface of my very thick skin most days, but other times right from my soul, sometimes felt so deep and other days simply shrugged off, but still. All those slivers add up to something much harder to pretend around. ~ Ivan E. Coyote

Like most kids, my dad played. He would drag us out to the course and make us shag balls for him and caddy and all that kind of stuff. ~ Tom Lehman

We're young. We're supposed to drink too much. We're supposed to have bad attitudes and shag each other's brains out. We were designed to party. We owe it to ourselves to party hard. We owe it to each other. This is it. This is our time. So a few of us will overdose, or go mental. Charles Darwin said you can't make an omelet without breaking a few eggs. That's what it's about - breakin' eggs - by eggs, I mean, getting twatted on a cocktail of class. As. If you could see yourselves ... We had it all. We have fucked up bigger and better than any generation that came before us. We were so beautiful ... We're screw-ups. I plan on staying a screw-up until my late twenties, or maybe even my early thirties. And I will shag my own mum before I let anyone else take that away from me! ~ Andrew Espley

Zombies are the middle children of the otherworldly family. Vampires are the oldest brother who gets to have a room in the attic, all tripped out with a disco ball and shag carpet. Werewolves are the youngest, the babies, always getting pinched and told they're cute. With all that attention stolen away from the middle child Zombie, no wonder she shuffles off grumbling, Marsha, Marsha, Marsha. ~ Kevin James Breaux

Guys like you would try to shag the button hole in a fur coat. ~ Poppet

I wouldn't want to fuck you if you had a ten inch knob made of gold and your arsehole was the gate to Nirvana. I can't be friends with you because you're a gibbering twatwaffle, not because I would ever, in a million years, want to shag you. Get over yourself! ~ FayJay

You're not friends. You'll never be friends. You'll be in love 'til it kills you both. You'll fight, and you'll shag, and you'll hate each other until it makes you quiver, but you'll never be friends. Love isn't brains, children, it's blood
blood screaming inside you to work its will. I may be love's bitch, but at least I'm man enough to admit it. ~ Joss Whedon

Why bother with clubs?

"Because you might get a shag," is the usual response. Really? If that's the only way you can find a partner - preening and jigging about like a desperate animal - you shouldn't be attempting to breed in the first place. What's your next trick? Inventing fire? People like you are going to spin civilisation into reverse. You're a moron, and so is that haircut you're trying to impress. Any offspring you eventually blast out should be drowned in a pan before they can do any harm. Or open any more nightclubs.

Even if you somehow avoid reproducing, isn't it a lot of hard work for very little reward? Seven hours hopping about in a hellish, reverberating bunker in exchange for sharing 64 febrile, panting pelvic thrusts with someone who'll snore and dribble into your pillow till 11 o'clock in the morning, before waking up beside you with their hair in a mess, blinking like a dizzy cat and smelling vaguely like a ham baguette? Really, why bother? Why not just stay at home punching yourself in the face? Invite a few friends round and make a night of it. It'll be more fun than a club. ~ Charlie Brooker

I want to make one thing clear; although we're having a little fun at Rag Tag's expense you can still like him. That is allowed, you know. You can have friends who are Rag Tags, you can enjoy their company, share jokes with them and look forward to seeing them again. And if they're of the opposite sex you can even shag them! Or the same sex, I guess, if you're that way inclined. But they're still Rag Tags, and they're on a different planet.

Or rather, you're on the Wrong Planet. ~ Karl Wiggins

A high upland common was this moor, two miles from end to end, and full of furze and bracken. There were no trees and not a house, nothing but a line of telegraph poles following the road, sweeping with rigidity from north to south; nailed upon one of them a small scarlet notice to stonethrowers was prominent as a wound. On so high and wide a region as Shag Moor the wind always blew, or if it did not quite blow there was a cool activity in the air. The furze was always green and growing, and, taking no account of seasons, often golden. Here in summer solitude lounged and snoozed; at other times, as now, it shivered and looked sinister. ("The Higgler") ~ A.E. Coppard

You're gay, you sell books ... you probably shag the books. ~ Eddie Izzard

Your house was not yours, but your late father's, and his pool
was almost as shallow as I was when I asked if you thought I looked good [...]
Your bedroom walls were covered in pictures, and your shag carpet
was almost as green as I was when I realized I wasn't the only one
being hurt. ~ Kris Kidd

Sex," I ask her. "What does it mean?"
"Poor you," She say's. "You really did get a crap shag, didn't you? ~ Jenny Downham

If I closed my eyes, I could almost count those soft hairs on the back of her neck. One day I'd even leaned forward, pretending to drop my pencil, and inhaled her until the top of my head started to steam. A scent of butterscotch wafted off of her, and it was all I could do not to plunge my face into her shag. ~ Jerry Stahl

We, with our propensity for murder, torture, slavery, rape, cannibalism, pillage, advertising jingles, shag carpets, and golf, how could we be seriously considered as the perfection of a four-billion-year-old grandiose experiment? perhaps as a race, we have evolved as far as we are capable, yet that by no means suggests that evolution has called it quits. in all likelihood, it has something beyond human on the drawing board. we tend to refer to our most barbaric and crapulous behavior as "inhuman," whereas, in point of fact, it is exactly human, definitively and quintessentially human, since no other creature habitually indulges in comparable atrocities. this negates neither our occasional virtues nor our aesthetic triumphs, but if a being at least a little bit more than human is not waiting around the bend of time then evolution has suffered a premature ejaculation. ~ Tom Robbins

Roppongi is an interzone, the land of gaijin bars, always up late. I'm waiting at a pedestrian crossing when I see her. She's probably Australian, young and quite serviceably beautiful. She wears very expensive, very sheer black undergarments, and little else, save for some black outer layer - equally sheer, skintight, and micro-short - and some gold and diamonds to give potential clients the right idea. She steps past me, into four lanes of traffic, conversing on her phone in urgent Japanese. Traffic halts obediently for this triumphantly jaywalking gaijin in her black suede spikes. I watch her make the opposite curb, the brain-cancer deflector on her slender little phone swaying in counterpoint to her hips. When the light changes, I cross, and watch her high-five a bouncer who looks like Oddjob in a Paul Smith suit, his skinny lip beard razored with micrometer precision. There's a flash of white as their palms meet. Folded paper. Junkie origami. ~ William Gibson

There are some who say that Time is itself a hammer; that each slow second marks another tap that makes big rocks into little rocks, waterfalls into canyons, cliffs into beaches.
There are some who say that Time is instead a blade. They see the dance of its razored tip, poised like a venomous snake, forever ready to slay faster than the eye can see.
And there are some who say that Time is both hammer and blade.
They say the hammer is a sculptor's mallet, and the blade is a sculptor's chisel: that each stroke is a refinement, a perfecting, a discovery of truth and beauty within what would otherwise be blank and lifeless stone.
And I name this saying wisdom. ~ Matthew Woodring Stover