Rock Paper Scissors Quotes

We were playing Rock, Paper, Scissors," she told him once. "I was paper and she was rock so I lived and she died. ~ Melina Marchetta

Mine, said the stone,
mine is the hour.
I crush the scissors,
such is my power.
Stronger than wishes,
my power, alone.

Mine, said the paper,
mine are the words
that smother the stone
with imagined birds,
reams of them, flown
from the mind of the shaper.

Mine, said the scissors,
mine all the knives
gashing through paper's
ethereal lives;
nothing's so proper
as tattering wishes.

As stone crushes scissors,
as paper snuffs stone
and scissors cut paper,
all end alone.
So heap up your paper
and scissor your wishes
and uproot the stone
from the top of the hill.
They all end alone
as you will, you will. ~ David Mason

Yes,but only if we employ careful strategy,as in rock-paper-scissors," I said.
"My 720 totally beats Nick falling down, like paper covers rock. Unless the rock is a boy,in which case the boy always wins."
"Hayden-"Liz began.
"I am getting sick of your attitude, Hayden," Chloe talked over Liz. "We've been up here all day with you.All we have left is to get you off this jump. Every time you try, you have some excuse: wind in your face, bug in your ear, panties up your butt-"
"I was not making that up," I broke in. "Imagine trying a trick with umcomfortable underwear." I squirmed, rocking back and forth on my board to make a point.
"Or you make some stupid joke!" Chloe hollered at me.Her voice echoed against the rocky slope of the mountain overhead.i stealthily looked around in my goggles to see if any boarders I knew had heard,but it was getting late,and the slopes were empty except for us. ~ Jennifer Echols

Alice: "I'll play you for it. Rock, paper, scissors."
Edward: "Why don't you just tell me who wins?"
Alice: "I do. Excellent. ~ Stephenie Meyer

Instead of Rock, Paper, Scissors, you could play Brick, Blanket, Action Fingers, in which brick cripples action fingers, blanket smothers brick and action fingers beats blanket. ~ Nicole McKay

What do you want, MacGuffin, a duel?"
"No." Julian held out both hands, one palm flat, the other held over it in a fist. "Rock, paper, scissors. Two out of three."
Ty rolled his eyes and held out his fist, apparently willing to play. Julian hit his palm three times, and Ty kept time with his fist in the air. But when Julian threw a paper, Ty reached into his jacket with his other hand and pulled his gun, aiming it at Julian.
"Ty!" Zane said in exasperation from the front seat.
"Glock, paper, scissors. I win."
"You are an ass," Julian muttered. ~ Abigail Roux

At 5.45 a.m. the important scientists finished their coffee and played rock paper scissors to see who had to phone the government. ~ Mitch Benn

I know - I'll play you for it," Alice suggested. "Rock, paper, scissors."
Jasper chuckled and Edward sighed.
"Why don't you just tell me who wins?" Edward said wryly.
Alice beamed. "I do. Excellent. ~ Stephenie Meyer

I guess we'll try the old fashion way!" "Alright Kakarrot you're asking for it" "Rock, Paper!...ready! rock, paper, scissors, ha!" "Yea I did it!"
"That's not the fusion technique! ~ Toei Animation

Ty slapped Owen on the arm. "Close your eyes, man."
"Why?"
"You got a tell."
"I have a tell at Rock, Paper, Scissors?" Ty and Nick both nodded. "And you tell me ten years later? You're both assholes! ~ Abigail Roux

I raise my hands, still clutching the grenade. They could try to take it from me, try to disarm me... hell, they could even go ahead and shoot me in the face... but they'd have four seconds to save themselves before we all got blown to pieces.
They take a few steps back, but nobody lowers their weapons, like guns are going to help them in this situation. Rock, paper, scissors, motherfuckers... you better take your pick and hope like hell you win. ~ J.M. Darhower

Medicine. The minutes drag on. I tuck my slingshot away and play a few rounds of Rock, Paper, Scissors with Tess. (I don't know why, but she's crazy good at this game.) ~ Marie Lu

Jealousy always trumps schadenfreude! It's a rule from the heartbreak version of 'rock, paper, scissors. ~ Julie Klausner

Their version of rock-paper-scissors was elephant - fist, mouse - palm, and ant - little finger. The elephant crushed the mouse, the mouse squashed the ant, and the ant crawled up the elephant's trunk and paralyzed his brain. ~ Colin Cotterill

Come here," she says.
"No, you come here."
"I said it first."
"Rock paper scissors."
"No. Because you'll do nerdy calculations and work out what I chose the last six times and then you'll win."
Will pushes away from the table and his hand snakes out and he pulls her toward him and Tom figures that Will was always going to go to her first. ~ Melina Marchetta

I fireballed him as he was seeking out treasure after we wiped out a band of orcs, playing rock-paper-scissors with each orc to determine who would prevail in combat. This is a lot more exciting than it sounds.
It's quite civilized, and a little weird. You go running after someone through the woods, catch up with him, bare your teeth, and sit down to play a little roshambo. ~ Cory Doctorow

Three injured. Three dead.
That's what all the news reports said.
Six people caught bullets that night at Mystic - half of them died, while the other half lived.
The neurotic asshole that exists inside of me loves the symmetry of it. Three has always been my favorite number. Three books in a trilogy. Three sheets to the wind. They say the third time is the charm. Three strikes and you're out. Rock, paper, scissors... Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice... the good, the bad, and the ugly... need I go on?
Hell, there are three good Star Wars movies. I'll leave it up to you to figure out which ones I'm talking about.
They say deaths come in threes, too. ~ J.M. Darhower

I want to know now," I whine, not caring that I sound like a five-year-old throwing a tantrum.

"How about this? We'll Rock, Paper, Scissors for it."

Yeah, we're going to make great parents, all right.

"Fine." I crack my knuckles, which makes him snicker. "Ready?"

"Ready."

We count in unison. On three, we reveal our hands. He did paper. I did rock.

"I win," he says smugly.

"Sorry, baby, but you lose."

"Paper covers rock!"

I smirk. "Rock weighs down the paper so it can't fly away. It traps it."

A loud sigh fills the room. "I'm not going to win on this, am I?"

"Nope." But he looks so cute right now that I offer a compromise. "How about this? You can leave the room while the doctor tells me, and I swear I won't give it away. I'll hide all my baby purchases in my closet so you can't see what I'm buying."

"Deal ~ Elle Kennedy

I like "Rock, Paper, Scissors Two-Thirds." You know. "Rock breaks scissors." "These scissors are bent. They're destroyed. I can't cut stuff. So I lose." "Scissors cuts paper." "These are strips. This is not even paper. It's gonna take me forever to put this back together." "Paper covers rock." "Rock is fine. No structural damage to rock. Rock can break through paper at any point. Just say the word. Paper sucks." There should be "Rock, Dynamite with a Cutable Wick, Scissors." ~ Demetri Martin

Bury me smilin' with G's in my pocket, Have a party at my funeral let every rapper rock it Let the hoes that I used to know, from way before Kiss me from my head to my toe, Gimme a paper and pen so I can write about my life of sin, Couple bottles of gin, in case I don't get in ... ~ Tupac Shakur

I look in the jewelry box where Joanie found the drugs. She showed me a miniature Ziploc bag filled with a clear, hard rock.

"What is this?" I said. I never did drugs, so I had no idea. Heroin? Cocaine? Crack? Ice? "What is this?" I screamed at Alex, who screamed back, "It's not like I shoot it!"

A plastic ballerina pops up and slowly twirls to a tinkling song whose sound is discordant and deformed. The pink satin liner is dirty, and other than a black pearl necklace, the box holds only rusty paper clips and rubber bands noosed with Alex's dark hair. I see a note stuck to the mirror and pick up the jewelry box and move the ballerina aside. She twirls against my finger. The note says, I wouldn't hide them in the same place twice.

I let out a short breath through my nose. Good one, Alex. I close the jewelry box and shake my head, missing her tremendously. I wish she never went back to boarding school, and I don't understand her sudden change of plans. What did they fight about? What could have been so bad? ~ Kaui Hart Hemmings

I will be a sonofabitch if he ain't in here at eleven-thirty at night, fartin' around in the dark with a pair of scissors and a paper sack. ~ Ken Kesey

Parishioners will welcome the assurance, if news of changes and experiments has come their way, that no such changes are contemplated in this parish church; they will not be used as guinea pigs for liturgical experiments. The form used at weddings and at the baptism of their children will be exactly the same as it has been for centuries.

There have been changes in the world around – especially perhaps in the Victorian era, which we are pleased to think of as solid – but human needs are very constant and those who study it will find that the Book of Common Prayer, compiled from ancient sources in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries meets those needs in a manner more realistic than more contemporary efforts in this direction. It is difficult for instance to discover any need in 1966 which is not fittingly brought to God in the 400 year old words of the Litany. So the motto for our public transactions with Almighty God in the churches of our parish will be 'Business as usual'. If any declare that we stick in the mud, we retort that by loyalty to the Prayer Book we stand on a rock. ~ Beeston Parish Paper

In some ways, I always thought you're better off behaving like a rock star when you're a normal person. Because if you do it as a rock star, you'll end up in the papers and your life will be made a misery. ~ Jarvis Cocker

I talk to people who are musicians, and they go, Oh this is hell. And I go, Are you kidding me? You never put tar paper on a roof, did ya? ~ Chris Isaak

That year, and every year, it seemed, we began by studying the Revolutionary War. We were taken in school buses on field trips to visit Plymouth Rock, and to walk the Freedom Trail, and to climb to the top of the Bunker Hill Monument. We made dioramas out of colored construction paper depicting George Washington crossing the choppy waters of the Delaware River, and we made puppets of King George wearing white tights and a black bow in his hair. During tests we were given blank maps of the thirteen colonies, and asked to fill in names, dates, capitals. I could do it with my eyes closed. ~ Jhumpa Lahiri

This one time in Year Eight we had to write on butcher's paper how we'd like people to see us. Remember ours? We were like, 'We don't want people to see us as leaders or heroes or anything out of the ordinary. We just want them to see us as on their level.' "

"But Justine Kalinsky gets up there, on her own, poor thing . And she says, 'I'd like people to see me as their Rock.' "

"And we killed ourselves laughing."

"Poor thing."

"What did she mean?" the Pius girl asks.

"Who knows. ~ Melina Marchetta

Genitive is a funny word because it means "from," but it also is the gender in European languages for objects: the masculine, feminine, and neuter. So if you have a genitive present, there's room for everybody to fit in. I just did a project in Vienna about rock, paper, scissor; you change the gender and it simply changes the whole thing. Rock is no longer a male. It doesn't function the same way. ~ Lawrence Weiner

Yeah, well. If you're staying here in hopes of making out with Alaska, I sure wish you wouldn't. If you unmoor her from the rock that is Jake, God have mercy on us all. That would be some drama, indeed. And as a rule, I like to avoid drama."
"It's not because I want to make out with her."
"Hold on." He grabbed a pencil and scrawled excitedly at the paper as if he'd just made a mathematical breakthrough and then looked back up at me. "I just did some calculations, and I've been able to determine that you're full of shit." And he was right. ~ John Green

All of a sudden, life became too much to bear. Just like that, for no particular reason. Because there was a child's corpse in the fridge on rue Parthenais. Because I had to start all over again from scratch, one more time. Because I had rolled my rock to the top of the hill and now it was rolling back down again. The times before, I'd always managed to put on a brave face. But there comes a time when you just don't feel strong enough to look for another place to live and go shopping again for clothes and dishes and cutlery and scouring pads and toilet paper. This was one of those times. When I got back to the hotel, I asked the Barbie at reception for the key to the minibar. It burned in the palm of my hand. I slapped it back down on the counter and ran out. I had to find a meeting. ~ Bernard Emond

For many years I wanted to be a rock star but of course that didn't work out. I did however write on napkins and pieces of paper sentences and occurrences. I decided maybe I should write a book because I had been writing so much. I'm actually writing a book based on The Room that will hopefully be published soon. ~ Tommy Wiseau

Rock is fine. No structural damage to rock. Rock can break through paper at any point. Just say the word. Paper sucks. ~ Demetri Martin

I got love from my family. I don't really need love from a paper, you know what I mean? I can't get too happy because somebody said something nice about me. I appreciate it, but let's not get it twisted - this is not changing my life. ~ Chris Rock

He pointed at the paper. "I want you to write me a description of every foot you've put wrong since we met. Make sure I can read your writing. You have five minutes."

Write about every foot I'd put wrong. I peered down at my feet.

I started to write: My left foot is a size eight point five. It has a high arch, and my big toe is longer than my second toe. There is a light smattering of hair on the top of my foot. I paused and stuck my left leg out, studying my shoe. Right now I am wearing Nike Frees for m -
"Bring me your paper."
I glanced at my paper. "I'm not done yet."
"One . . . two . . ."
I brought him the paper. ~ J.A. Rock

Lies erase. Lies are power. Power to be had by you. Truth is relative, no? Power defeats truth, paper, scissors. Are you faux real? ~ David David Katzman

This is from Elizabeth," it said. "She has sold Havenhurst." A pang of guilt and shock sent Ian to his feet as he read the rest of the note: "I am to tell you that this is payment in full, plus appropriate interest, for the emeralds she sold, which, she feels, rightfully belonged to you."
Swallowing audibly, Ian picked up the bank draft and the small scrap of paper with it. On it Elizabeth herself had shown her calculation of the interest due him for the exact number of days since she'd sold the gems, until the date of her bank draft a week ago.
His eyes ached with unshed tears while his shoulders began to rock with silent laughter-Elizabeth had paid him half a percent less than the usual interest rate.
Thirty minutes later Ian presented himself to Jordan's butler and asked to see Alexandra. She walked into the room with accusation and ire shooting from her blue eyes as she said scornfully, "I wondered if that note would bring you here. Do you have any notion how much Havenhurst means-meant-to her?"
"I'll get it back for her," he promised with a somber smile. "Where is she?"
Alexandra's mouth fell open at the tenderness in his eyes and voice.
"Where is she?" he repeated with calm determination.
"I cannot tell you," Alex said with a twinge of regret.
"You know I cannot. I gave my word."
"Would it have the slightest effect," Ian countered smoothly, "if I were to ask Jordan to exert his husbandly influence to persuade you to tell me a ~ Judith McNaught

He unfixes the metal notch and slips his hand around the body of the bird. Feels its heat, its small heart beating. He stares at the bird's bright orange eyes. Like the color of the bird's wings in the painting. Or the small touch of lichen on the rock by the Japanese woman's foot. Natalia did not truly see the painting. Is it excitement of the unknown that pulled her away, or despair? He know the answer. He returns the bird to its cage, pulls out a piece of paper from his pocket, and writes, Paris Will lose, but there is a woman who will fight without fear because she believes she has already lost everything. [pp. 1722-173] ~ Nina Schuyler

Biogenesis is in the first place psychogenesis. This truth was never more manifest than on Mars, where noosphere preceded biosphere-the layer of thought first enwrapping the silent planet from afar, inhabiting it with stories and plans and dreams, until the moment when John stepped out and said Here we are-from which point of ignition the green force spread like wildfire, until the whole planet was pulsing with viriditas. It was as if the planet itself had felt something missing, and at the tap of mind against rock, noosphere against lithosphere, the absent biosphere had sprung into the gap with the startling suddenness of a magician's paper flower ~ Kim Stanley Robinson

Brin tilted his head. 'For a moment I thought you were a dirty little tramp like the rest of us, but then you go and ruin it. For future reference, stories about anonymous hookups in alleys should not end up with you going to the library alone.'
'I had a paper due.'
Brin burst out laughing and hugged him. 'You're too adorable for words.' ~ Lisa Henry

We use the effect of centrifugal forces on matter to offer insight into the rotation rate of extreme cosmic objects. Consider pulsars. With some rotating at upward of a thousand revolutions per second, we know that they cannot be made of household ingredients, or they would spin themselves apart. In fact, if a pulsar rotated any faster, say 4,500 revolutions per second, its equator would be moving at the speed of light, which tells you that this material is unlike any other. To picture a pulsar, imagine the mass of the Sun packed into a ball the size of Manhattan. If that's hard to do, then maybe it's easier if you imagine stuffing about a hundred million elephants into a Chapstick casing. To reach this density, you must compress all the empty space that atoms enjoy around their nucleus and among their orbiting electrons. Doing so will crush nearly all (negatively charged) electrons into (positively charged) protons, creating a ball of (neutrally charged) neutrons with a crazy-high surface gravity. Under such conditions, a neutron star's mountain range needn't be any taller than the thickness of a sheet of paper for you to exert more energy climbing it than a rock climber on Earth would exert ascending a three-thousand-mile-high cliff. In short, where gravity is high, the high places tend to fall, filling in the low places - a phenomenon that sounds almost biblical, in preparing the way for the Lord: "Every valley shall be raised up, every mountain and hill made low; the roug ~ Neil DeGrasse Tyson

Here's the thing: we're all as thin as paper. Like those paper people you used to find in old children's magazines, inhabiting a two-page spread with other paper people, all of them hanging out somewhere together-at the park, at church, at school, at the mall, on the family room-until some kid took a pair of scissors to the dotted lines surrounding them and cut them out of their paper world. That's us, that's anyone. That was me. A cut-out paper person removed from the world I once belonged to. ~ Christopher Barzak

I'm glad that the rock is heavy
and that it feels all right in my heart
like an eye in a pot of humus.
Let's write long letters on grand themes,
fish sandwiches, egg sandwiches and cheese;
or travelling in Mexico, Italy and Australia.
I eat a lot so I won't get drunk and then
I drink a lot so I'll feel excited
and then I've gone away I don't know where
or with whom and can't remember whom from
except that I'm back with my paper bag
and next time my face won't come with me. ~ Frank O'Hara

If I like hardcore straight-edge punk music, gentle psychedelic folk music, gangster rap, indie-rock with a lot of guitar pedals, and I find inspiration from all these things in different songs of mine, shouldn't I be allowed to make any of this kind of music that I want? And it's the same for the comic books, why should I only make autobiographical stories? Or only political stories? Or only superhero stories? Or only comedy stories? I am a bit creatively desperate, when I sit with a pen and paper I am desperate for ANY idea that makes me excited, I don't care what kind of idea it is! ~ Jeffrey Lewis

We might as well reasonably dispute whether it is the upper or the under blade of a pair of scissors that cuts a piece of paper, as whether value is governed by demand or supply. ~ Alfred Marshall

Writing, music, sculpting, painting, and prayer! These are the three things that are most closely related! Writers, musicians, sculptors, painters, and the faithful are the ones who make things out of nothing. Everybody else, they make things out of something, they have materials! But a written work can be done with nothing, it can begin in the soul! A musical piece begins with a harmony in the soul, a sculpture begins with a formless, useless piece of rock chiseled and formed and molded into the thing that was first conceived in the sculptor's heart! A painting can be carried inside the mind for a lifetime, before ever being put onto paper or canvass! And a prayer! A prayer is a thought, a remembrance, a whisper, a communion, that is from the soul going to what cannot be seen, yet it can move mountains! And so I believe that these five things are interrelated, these five kinds of people are kin. ~ C. JoyBell C.

"Having it all" is the phrase of a culture that, as Adam Phillips implies in 'Missing Out', is tyranized by the idea of its own potential. A few generations ago, most people didn't wake up in the morning and fret about whether or not they were living their lives to the fullest. Freedom has always been built into the American experiment, of course, but the freedom to take off and go rock-climbing for the afternoon, or to study engineering, or even to sneak in ten minutes for ourselves in the morning to read the paper- these kinds of freedoms were not, until very recently, built into our private universes of anticipation. It's important to remember that. ~ Jennifer Senior

If they keep exposing you to education, you might even realize some day that man becomes immortal only in what he writes on paper, or hacks into rock, or slabbers onto a canvas, or pulls out of a piano. ~ Robert Ruark

Crouching, Ceony felt the edge of the giant crack. None of it came away in her fingers, even when she scratched it with her nails. The rock stayed hard and firm. Another handful of sand dropped to the canyon floor, seeming to make no difference in the canyon's depth whatsoever. But Ceony knew that enough handfuls would fill it, eventually. After all, it took time to mend one's heart. Enough time could heal a heart as broken as this one. It was half-healed already. ~ Charlie N. Holmberg

Goldie?" Jack asked. "What is it?"
"Jack, my water just broke," Goldilocks said. "I'm going into labor!"
All the characters glanced at one another in panic. This was such an anticipated moment, but no one was prepared for it. They were characters from children's stories - none of them knew how to deliver a baby!
"Quick! We need scissors, boiling water, and recycled paper!" Red shouted. "Or is that for papier-mâché?"
Trollbella covered her eyes. "Keep it inside while I'm in the room!" she said. "I don't want to see a baby come out of you.!"
"CALL THE MIDWIFE AND WET NURSE!" Robin Hood yelled. "BUT DON'T TELL THEM I SENT YOU! ~ Chris Colfer

One time Bonaventure heard the graphite of a pencil rasp across a piece of paper and leave a slight and quivered mark behind. He listened so hard he heard the graphite's history, when it was still a part of metamorphic rock that didn't know it would one day almost capture what was almost a thought from the mind of an insane man. ~ Rita Leganski

My parents got divorced. Early and ugly. My mum was nuts so I lived with my dad. We used to play a father/son games. Pin the blame on me, rock, paper, get me another beer, casino night. ~ Christopher Titus

We have not begun to live', Yeats writes, 'until we conceive life as a tragedy.' Newman confessed that he considered most men to be irretrievably damned, although he spent his life 'trying to make that truth less terrible to human reason'. Goethe could call his life 'the perpetual rolling of a rock that must be raised up again forever'. Martin Luther told a woman who wished him a long life: 'Madam, rather than live forty more years, I would give up my chance of paradise.' No, the Outsider does not make light work of living; at the best, it is hard going; at the worst (to borrow a phrase from Eliot) 'an intolerable shirt of flame',

It was this vision that made Axel declare: 'As for living, our servants will do that for us.' Axel was a mystic; at least, he had the makings of a mystic. For that is just what the mystic says: 'I refuse to Uve.' But he doesn't intend to die. There is another way of living that involves a sort of death: 'to die in order to Uve'. Axel would have locked himself up in his castle on the Rhine and read Hermetic philosophy. He saw men and the world as Newman saw them, as Eliot saw them in 'Burnt Norton':
... strained, time-ridden faces
Distracted from distraction by distraction
Filled with fancies and empty of meaning
Tumid apathy with no concentration
Men and bits of paper, whirled by the cold wind
That blows before and after time

But he was not willing to regard himself as hopelessly damned merely bec ~ Colin Wilson

Take a newspaper.
Take some scissors.
Choose from this paper an article of the length you want to make your poem.
Cut out the article.
Next carefully cut out each of the words that makes up this article and put them all in a bag.
Shake gently.
Next take out each cutting one after the other.
Copy conscientiously in the order in which they left the bag.
The poem will resemble you.
And there you are -- an infinitely original author of charming sensibility, even though unappreciated by the vulgar herd. ~ Tristan Tzara

The world is dead, The Samurai, moving among the inert metal of pumps and lines and distillation columns, over the concrete apron in which the plants were constructed, over gravel brought from the Prospect quarries. it is a world of age-old stones - picking up a piece of gravel in which glinted minerals unknown to him - of basalt chiped from mountains long ago, lying around on roads, lying under hills waiting to be plundered. And laughing at humans. These dead rocks were all of them older than the human race which trod them. each fragment had an immortality. Humans rotted away into the soil in an instant of time.

What was the power he had that enabled him to lift this fragment of eternity in his hand and decide where to throw it? What had been breathed into his fragile dust that seemed for his instant of life to mock the inertia of the rock? Was his own existence supported by a paper warrant somewhere?

He drew back from following these thoughts. There was a power in him, or rather power came to him that made him stronger than he needed to be. A power that blew up certain feelings to an enormous size, a secret power. Was he so different from the men around him? What was the mission that he had been born to perform?
He deliberately relaxed. As he looked about him with a new mood the whole world filled with love. Even the dirt underfoot was sympathetic and grateful. he could love these random stones, these heaps of inert, formed metal so far now fro ~ David Ireland

There is no sin worse in life than being boring and nothing worse than letting other people tell you what to do. ~ Paris Hilton

Kiss is like a smell in a paper bag, they just never go away ~ Dee Snider

And we're going out.

Kill me.

'Got everything?' Mom asks, her voice all sing-songy. We're acting normal. A short-lived facade when I open my bag and Operation Check Contents begins.

1. Phone to call for help if we have a car crash/get mugged/drive into the path of a tornado

2. Headphones to drown out the sound of people if we get caught in a crowd

3. Bottle of water for if we break down and get stranded in the middle of nowhere

4. Another bottle of water in case that other bottle leaks or evaporates

5. Tissues for nosebleeds, sneezing, crying, and/or drooling

6. Sanitizer to kill the germs you can catch from touching anything

7. Paper bag to breathe into or throw up in

8. Band-Aids and alcohol wipes in case open wounds should occur

9. Inhaler (I grew out of asthma when I was twelve, but you can't be too careful when it comes to breathing)

10. A piece of string that serves no purpose but it's been here since for ever and I'm afraid the world will implode if I don't have it

11. A pair of nail scissors for any one of a trillion reasons, most of which conclude with me being kidnapped

12. And, finally, chewing gum to take away the sour taste I always get when the panic hits

Normal takes a nosedive into my bag, sinks beneath the copious amount of clutter, and dies a slow, painful death. ~ Louise Gornall

Until film is just as easily accessible as a pen or pencil, then it's not completely an art form. In painting you can just pick up a piece of chalk, a stick or whatever. In sculpture you can get a rock. Writing you just need a pencil and paper. ~ Forest Whitaker

The covers are rugged hand-laid paper of rice chaff, bamboo tailings, free-range hemp, and crystalline glacial meltwater made by wizened artisans operating out of a mist-shrouded temple hewn from living volcanic rock on some island known only to aerobically gifted, Spandex-sheathed Left Coast travel bores. An ~ Neal Stephenson

Blue jeans, white shirt
Walked into the room you know you made my eyes burn
It was like, James Dean, for sure
You're so fresh to death and sick as ca-cancer
You were sorta punk rock, I grew up on hip hop
But you fit me better than my favourite sweater, and I know
That love is mean, and love hurts
But I still remember that day we met in december, oh baby!

I will love you 'til the end of time
I would wait a million years
Promise you'll remember that you're mine
Baby can you see through the tears
Love you more
Than those bitches before
Say you'll remember, oh baby, say you'll remember
I will love you 'til the end of time

Big dreams, gangster
Said you had to leave to start your life over
I was like, "No please, stay here,
We don't need no money we can make it all work,"
But he headed out on sunday, said he'd come home monday
I stayed up waitin', anticipatin', and pacin'
But he was chasing paper
"Caught up in the game" ‒ that was the last I heard

I will love you 'til the end of time
I would wait a million years
Promise you'll remember that you're mine
Baby can you see through the tears
Love you more
Than those bitches before
Say you'll remember, oh baby, say you'll remember
I will love you 'til the end of time

You went out every night
And baby that's alright
I told you that no matter what y ~ Lana Del Rey

It's just rock and roll. A lot of times we get criticized for it. A lot of music papers come out with: 'When are they going to stop playing these three chords?' If you believe you shouldn't play just three chords it's pretty silly on their part. To us, the simpler a song is, the better, 'cause it's more in line with what the person on the street is. ~ Angus Young

I wake to sunshine flashing on puddled water, to dirty clumps of hail melting in the shadowed lees of boulders, to rock wrens singing like it's the best day of their lives. ~ Rae Carson

My father, he was like the rock, the guy you went to with every problem. ~ Gwyneth Paltrow

Too many people want to have mountaintop experiences at rock-bottom prices and that just doesn't work. Greatness doesn't come at a discount. If you want true greatness, you have to pay the full price for it. ~ Damilola Oluwatoyinbo