Ripped Jean Quotes

He's such a workaholic. Never stops to reflect, smell the roses. It's just kill, kill, protect, protect with that man. ~ Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

Some People

Some people flee some other people.
In some country under a sun
and some clouds.

They abandon something close to all they've got,
sown fields, some chickens, dogs,
mirrors in which fire now preens.

Their shoulders bear pitchers and bundles.
The emptier they get, the heavier they grow.

What happens quietly: someone's dropping from exhaustion.
What happens loudly: someone's bread is ripped away,
someone tries to shake a limp child back to life.

Always another wrong road ahead of them,
always another wrong bridge
across an oddly reddish river.
Around them, some gunshots, now nearer, now farther away,
above them a plane seems to circle.

Some invisibility would come in handy,
some grayish stoniness,
or, better yet, some nonexistence
for a shorter or a longer while.

Something else will happen, only where and what.
Someone will come at them, only when and who,
in how many shapes, with what intentions.
If he has a choice,
maybe he won't be the enemy
and will leave them to some sort of life. ~ Wisława Szymborska

I was overwhelmed by the smells. Slow, heavy odours, tenaciously biting, forming a strange mixture of excessive life and death, of birth and decay. ~ Jean-Christophe Grange

I never think of the completed film, rather the adventure of what I'm about to live. ~ Jean Dujardin

Faggots are the great immoralists. ~ Jean Genet

C: What do you get when a giant sneezes?
Out of the way. - Marigold ~ Jean Ferris

During the first few months of an infant's life, its manner of taking the breast, of laying its head on the pillow, etc., becomes crystallized into imperative habits. This is why education must begin in the cradle. ~ Jean Piaget

A fly will never be able to enter a mouth which knows when to stay shut, ~ Jean Sasson

With so many thousand joys, is it not black ingratitude to call the world a place of sorrow and torment? ~ Jean Paul

I am not virtuous. Our sons will be if we shed enough blood to give them the right to be. ~ Jean-Paul Sartre

In the name of what - except perhaps the coefficient of rarity - does man adorn himself with necklaces of shells and not spider's webs, with fox fur and not fox innards? In the name of what I don't know. Don't dirt, trash and filth, which are man's companions during his whole lifetime, deserve to be dearer to him and isn't it serving him well to remind him of their beauty? ~ Jean Dubuffet

Don't play with scorpions unless you intend to get stung." He yanked the neckline apart. Round, glass buttons popped onto the floor and rolled around like eyeballs, astounded by the sight of my bare flesh. "We're harsh and predatory and full of venom." He gnashed his teeth at me and ripped my blouse in two. ~ Leylah Attar

The truth is always less interesting than the fiction. ~ Jean-Pierre Dardenne

The fusion (of economic functions) would compel nations to fuse their sovereignty into that of a single European State. ~ Jean Monnet

The more you love, the more loving you become. That's just the way it works. It is a generosity of spirit. ~ Jean Houston

Every time we teach a child something, we keep him from inventing it himself. On the other hand, that which we allow him to discover for himself will remain with him visible for the rest of his life. ~ Jean Piaget

I began to see beauty as something that could be unleashed from within a person rather than a set of physical features like a perfect nose or big eyes. ~ Jean Kwok

The voice of an Angel, the Heart of a Lamb, the spirit of a Lioness, the presence of a Goddess, love you R.I.P Whitney Houston. ~ Wyclef Jean

I want to leave, to go somewhere where I should be really in my place, where I would fit in ... but my place is nowhere; I am unwanted. ~ Jean-Paul Sartre

Of all the passions, fear weakens judgment most. ~ Jean Francois Paul De Gondi

What is history after all? History is facts which become lies in the end. ~ Jean Cocteau

The jealousy of the dead is lasting! ~ Jean Garrigue

They stared at each other, wanting each other, drawn to each other, but their silent shout of love went unheard in the roar of misunderstanding, and the clatter of culturally ingrained beliefs. ~ Jean M. Auel

Hell, covering all with its gloomy vapors, has cast shadows on even the holiest eyes. ~ Jean Racine

We need to talk about the hierarchy of grief. You hear it all the time - no grief is worse than any other. I don't think that's one bit true. There is a hierarchy of grief. Divorce is not the same as the death of a partner. Death of a grandparent is not
the same as the death of a child. Losing your job is not the same as losing a limb.

Here's the thing: every loss is valid. And every loss is not the same. You can't flatten the landscape of grief and say that
everything is equal. It isn't.

It's easier to see when we take it out of the intensely personal: stubbing your toe hurts. It totally hurts. For a moment, the pain can be all-consuming. You might even hobble for a while. Having your foot ripped off by a passing
freight train hurts, too. Differently. The pain lasts longer. The injury needs recovery time, which may be uncertain or complicated. It affects and impacts your life moving forward. You can't go back to the life you had before you became a
one-footed person. No one would say these two injuries are exactly the same. ~ Megan Devine

It is not always the magnitude of the differences observed between species that must determine specific distinctions, but the constant preservation of those differences in reproduction. ~ Jean-Baptiste Lamarck

See that guy over there?" I nod toward a man in jean shorts and a Budweiser T-shirt. "Am I that obvious?"
St. Clair squints at him. "Obviously what? Balding? Overweight? Tasteless?"
"American."
He sighs melodramtically. "Honestly, Anna. You must get over this."
"I just don't want to offend anyone. I hear they offend easily."
"You're not offending anyone except me right now."
"What about her?" I point to a middle-aged woman in khaki shorts and a knit top with stars and stripes on it.She has a camera strapped to her belt and is arguing with a man in a bucket hat. Her husband,I suppose.
"Completely offensive."
"I mean,am I as obvious as her?"
"Considering she's wearing the American flag, I'd venture a no on that one." He bites his thumbnail. "Listen.I think I have a solution to your problem, but you'll have to wait for it. Just promise you'll stop asking me to compare you to fifty-year-old women,and I'll take care of everything."
"How? With what? A French passport?"
He snorts. "I didn't say I'd make you French." I open my mouth to protest, but he cuts me off. "Deal?"
"Deal," I say uncomfortably. I don't care for surprises. "But it better be good."
"Oh,it's good." And St. Clair looks so smug that I'm about to call him on it, when I realize I can't see our school anymore.
I don't believe it.He's completely distracted me. ~ Stephanie Perkins

What we seek in travel is neither discovery nor trade but rather a gentle deterritorialization: we want to be taken over by the journey - in other words, by absence. As our metal vectors transcend meridians, oceans and poles, absence takes on a fleshy quality. The clandestineness of the depths of private life gives way to annihilation by longitude and latitude. But in the end the body tires of not knowing where it is, even if the mind finds this absence exalting, as if it were a quality proper to itself.

Perhaps, after all, what we seek in others is the same gentle deterritorialization that we seek in travel. Instead of one's own desire, instead of discovery, we are tempted by exile in the desire of the other, or by the desire of the other as an ocean to cross. The looks and gestures of lovers already have the distance of exile about them; the language of lovers is an expatriation in words that are afraid to signify; and the bodies of lovers are a tender hologram to eye and hand, offering no resistance and hence susceptible of being crisscrossed, like airspace, by desire. We move around with circumspection on a mental planet of circumvolutions, and from our excesses and passions we bring back the same transparent memories as we do from our travels. ~ Jean Baudrillard

The ripped open houses with their exposed arrangements, their laid bare secrets, are like portraits. Each one has its own individual facial expression. More identity is on display in the midst of the destruction. More intimacy. It makes her realise how vulnerable these achievements are. Identity. Intimacy. ~ Glenn Haybittle

He opened the first letter, No "Dear Mr. Woods." It was a page full of profanities. There was something oddly refreshing about honest, to-the-point hate mail. No hypocrisy and forced politeness. Too many letters ripped you to shreds, then closed off 'Sincerely yours. ~ Randy Alcorn

A new problem appears: devices that optimize the performance of the human body for the purpose of producing proof require additional expenditures. No money, no proof - and that means no verification of statements and no truth. The games of scientific language become the games of the rich, in which whoever is the wealthiest has the best chance of being right. An equation between wealth, efficiency, and truth is thus established. ~ Jean Francois Lyotard

I want to leave, go to some place where I will be really in my own niche, where I will fit in. . . . But my place is nowhere; I am unwanted, de trop. The ~ Jean-Paul Sartre

If you're looking for fast driving there's a dragway in the southwestern part of the county. It opens next week."
"Do you race there?" he asks.
"Yes." And I plan on spending a lot of time there over the next six weeks.
"Isaiah." Beth attempts to step in between us, but Logan angles himself so that she can't. "That's not why I brought him here."
An insane glint strikes the guy's eyes and all of a sudden, I feel a connection to him. A twitch of his lips shows he might be my kind of crazy. "How fast do the cars there go?"
"Some guys hit speeds of 120 mph in an eighth mile."
"No!" Beth stomps her foot. "No. I promised Ryan nothing crazy would happen. Logan, this is not why I brought you here."
"Have you hit those speeds?" He swats his hand at Beth as if she's a fly, earning my respect. Most guys would be terrified of having their balls ripped off and handed to them for dismissing Beth like that.
"Not driving my car, I haven't," I answer honestly. But I hope to with Rachel's car, and with mine, after a few modifications. "Speed can be bought. Just depends on how much you want to spend."
Logan offers his hand. "I'm Logan."
"Isaiah," I say as we shake.
"Shit," mumbles Beth. ~ Katie McGarry

I throw back my head, and, feeling free as the wind, breathe in the fresh mountain air. Although I am heavy-hearted, my spirits are rising. To walk in nature is always good medicine. ~ Jean Craighead George

My pessimism extends to the point of even suspecting the sincerity of the pessimists. ~ Jean Rostand

My code of life and conduct is simply this: work hard, play to the allowable limit, disregard equally the good and bad opinion of others, never do a friend a dirty trick, eat and drink what you feel like when you feel like, never grow indignant over anything, trust to tobacco for calm and serenity, bathe twice a day ... learn to play at least one musical instrument and then play it only in private, never allow one's self even a passing thought of death, never contradict anyone or seek to prove anything to anyone unless one gets paid for it in cold, hard coin, live the moment to the utmost of its possibilities, treat one's enemies with polite inconsideration, avoid persons who are chronically in need, and be satisfied with life always but never with one's self. ~ George Jean Nathan

The letters I had inscribed on it were not even dry yet and already they belonged to the past. ~ Jean-Paul Sartre

I didn't have a choice."
"Are you saying...What are you saying?" Is he...could he be talking about me?
He runs a hand through his hair. I've never seen him this emotional before. He's always so controlled, so sure of himself. "I'm saying you're what I want, Emma. I'm saying I'm in love with you."
He steps forward and lifts his hand to my cheek, blazing a line of fire with his fingertips as they trace down to my mouth. "How do you think it would make me feel to see you with Grom?" he whispers. "Like someone ripped my heart out and put it through Rachel's meat grinder, that's how. Probably worse. It would probably kill me. Emma, please don't cry."
I throw my hands in the air. "Don't cry? Are you serious? Why did you come here, Galen? Did you think it would make me feel better to know that you do love me, but that it still won't work out? That I still have to mate with Grom for the greater good? Don't you tell me not to cry, Galen! I...c...c...can't h...h...help-" The waterworks soak me. Galen looks at me, hands by his side, helpless as a trapped crab. I'm bordering on hyperventilation, and pretty soon I'll start hiccupping. This is too much.
His expression is so severe, it looks like he's in physical pain. "Emma," he breathes. "Emma, does this mean you feel the same way? Do you care for me at all?"
I laugh, but it sounds sharper than I intended, because of a hiccup. "What does it matter how I feel, Galen? I think we pretty much covered why. No need ~ Anna Banks

The art of genius is knowing how far out is too far. ~ Jean Cocteau

I don't really remember, but I'm positive that whenever I cried, my mother gave me something to eat. I'm sure that whenever I had a fight with the little girl next door, or it was raining and I couldn't go out, or I wasn't invited to a birthday party, my mother gave me a piece of candy to make me feel better. ~ Jean Nidetch

I've seen everything from 'Wicked' to 'The Book Of Mormon,' and I don't make any bones of the fact that I love both. But 'Les Mis' is not only my favorite musical, but it's also my favorite story. I love the book, which I read as a kid, and I identified so much with Jean Valjean. ~ Corey Taylor

Kill a man and you're a murderer. Kill many and you're a conqueror. Kill them all, you're a god. ~ Jean Rostand

This woman could call upon the earth and the heavens to do her bidding. But she gave up her power to be human. Write this into your record, Judge - this Ondine was the most human human being that ever lived. She was human by choice. ~ Jean Giraudoux

Rarely do they appear great before their valets. ~ Jean De La Bruyere

My Christmas present? That's nice. But I'm not really in the mood to - "
"Open the goddamn thing or I'll kill you where you stand."
"Sir! Opening it." She ripped the paper, stuffed it hurriedly in her pocket, and pulled off the lid. "It's a key code."
"That's right. It's to the ground transpo that'll be at the airport over in that foreign country. Air transpo's been arranged, for two, on one of Roarke's private shuttles. Round trip. Merry fricking Christmas. Do what you want with it."
"I - you - one of the shuttles? Free?" Peabody's cheeks went pink as a summer rose. "And - and - and - a vehicle when we get there? It's so ... It's so seriously mag."
"Great. Can we go now?"
"Dallas!"
"No. No. No hugs. No hugs. No. Oh, shit," she muttered as Peabody threw her arms around her and squeezed. "We're on duty, we're in public. Let me go or I swear I'll kick your ass so hard that extra five pounds you're whining about will end up in Trenton. ~ J.D. Robb