The Cut Ups Quotes

Know who I am? ... 'Good Bye Mister' is my name ... 'Wind and Dust' is my name ... 'Never Happened' is my name ... ~ William S. Burroughs

You'd never have gotten it right. You have to hit the door just so. It took me weeks to learn."
"And what were you doing sneaking out at night?" he demanded.
"I fail to see how that is your business."
"You became my business when you took up residence
in my house."
"Well, I wouldn't have moved in if you hadn'tkidnapped me!"
"I wouldn't have kidnapped you if you hadn't been wandering about the countryside with no thought to
your own safety."
"I was certainly safer in the countryside than I was at Prewitt Hall, and you well know it."
"You wouldn't be safe in a convent," he muttered.
"If you two lovebirds can stop snapping at each other," James cut in, "I'd like to search the study before
Prewitt returns home."
Blake glared at Caroline as if this entire delay were her fault, causing her to hiss, "Don't forget that if it
weren't for me-"
"If it weren't for you," he shot back, "I would be a very happy man indeed."
"We are wasting time," James reminded them. "The both of you may remain here, if you cannot cease
your squabbling, but I am going in to search the south drawing room."
"I'll go first," Caroline announced, "since I know the way."
"You'll go behind me," Blake contradicted, "and give me directions as we go along."
"Oh, for the love of Saint Peter," James finally burst out, exasperation showing in every line of his body.
"I'll go first, if only to shut the ~ Julia Quinn

Despite the well-documented effects of anger, fear, and anxiety on the ability to reason, many programs continue to ignore the need to engage the safety system of the brain before trying to promote new ways of thinking. The last things that should be cut from school schedules are chorus, physical education, recess, and anything else involving movement, play, and joyful engagement. When children are oppositional, defensive, numbed out, or enraged, it's also important to recognize that such "bad behavior" may repeat action patterns that were established to survive serious threats, even if they are intensely upsetting or off-putting. ~ Bessel A. Van Der Kolk

Modern cosmetic surgeons have a direct financial interest in a social role for women that requires them to feel ugly. They do not simply advertise for a share of a market that already exists: Their advertisements create new markets. It is a boom industry because it is influentially placed to create its own demand through the pairing of text with ads in women's magazines. The industry takes out ads and gets coverage; women get cut open. They pay their money and they takes their chances. As surgeons grow richer, they are able to command larger and brighter ad spaces. ~ Naomi Wolf

Because hope is a knife that can cut through the foundations of the world, said Sumi. Her voice was suddenly crystalline and clear, with none of her prior whimsy. She looked at Nancy with calm, steady eyes. Hope hurts. That's what you need to learn, and fast, if you don't want it to cut you open from the inside out. Hope is bad. Hope means you keep on holding to things that won't ever be so again, and so you bleed an inch at a time until there's nothing left. Ely-Eleanor is always saying 'don't use this word' and 'don't use that word,' but she never bans the ones that really bad. She never bans hope. ~ Seanan McGuire

cut off the inhabitants from the Valley of q Aven, [4] and him who holds the scepter from r Beth-eden; and the people of s Syria shall go into exile to t Kir," says the LORD. 6Thus says the LORD: k "For three transgressions of u Gaza, and for four, I will not revoke the punishment, because v they carried into exile a whole people ~ Anonymous

Words, I think, are such unpredictable creatures.
No gun, no sword, no army or king will ever be more powerful than a sentence. Swords may cut and kill, but words will stab and stay, burying themselves in our bones to become corpses we carry into the future, all the time digging and failing to rip their skeletons from our flesh. ~ Tahereh Mafi

Through the uneven morning mist, she could make out the ruin of the monastery on the northern verge. The broken, roofless walls of outbuildings stretched south of the main ruins in a broken curve. Birches and a few young oaks had grown up where monks had likely once raised vegetables. The rest of the clearing was filled with grass and brambles cut through with newly blazed paths. Four lean-tos had been erected just beyond the stone fence of an overgrown graveyard. ~ Neal Stephenson

Even the word 'science' comes from an Indo-European root meaning 'to cut' or 'to separate.' The same root led to the word 'shit,' which of course means to separate living flesh from nonliving waste. The same root gave us 'scythe' and 'scissors' and 'schism,' which have obvious connections to the concept of separation. ~ Neal Stephenson

Gravity has got the best of me.

She takes a hold,

won't let me go.

She rips me into pieces.

Coming home,

I'm left alone with nothing but a box

of mismatched socks

and missing puzzle pieces.

I'm lost but never found.

I'm riding the wind

and coming down

until I'm swept away again.

You've said cut ties.

You've said count lies.

Break your best intentions and leave no trace.

All the hurt can be erased if you stay with me on the surface.

I'm lost but never found.

I'm riding the wind

and coming down

until I'm swept away again. ~ Renee Carlino

Elegy (1586)

My prime of youth is but a frost of cares;
My feast of joy is but a dish of pain,
My crop of corn is but a field of tares,
And all my good is but vain hope of gain:
The day is past, and yet I saw no sun,
And now I live, and now my life is done.

My tale was heard, and yet it was not told,
My fruit is fallen, and yet my leaves are green,
My youth is spent, and yet I am not old,
I saw the world, and yet I was not seen:
My thread is cut, and yet it is not spun,
And now I live, and now my life is done.

I sought my death, and found it in my womb,
I looked for life, and saw it was a shade,
I trod the earth, and knew it was my tomb,
And now I die, and now I was but made;
The glass is full, and now the glass is run,
And now I live, and now my life is done. ~ Chidiock Tichborne

You can always count on the New York Times to cut your legs off. ~ Adam Rapp

they can't say I didn't love you they can't understand that some people love roses for the thorns and the way sometimes we need to be cut to feel alive and why I could walk away so calmly they said you were dead and remind me from time to time ~ Mark Abukoff

I am convinced that those who get themselves involved in the machinery of power politics, even for the purpose of destroying it, are bound to fail in their purpose. To destroy it we have to stay out of it. If we want to cut down a tree, it is of no use to climb into its branches. The desire to keep contact with something, even to destroy it, is a subtle and insidious illusion. ~ Vinoba Bhave

Here! Turn left, I know a short cut through Barons Court.
We spend the next twenty minutes mired in roadworks in Barons Court with a bunch of other people who know Edie's short cut. ~ Mark Mills

Evidently there is no need for delay, no need for further study, if the government takes a loss and Wall Street makes a profit, but it is absolutely necessary to delay if homeowners might have a chance to cut their mortgages and stay in their homes. This is wrong, and it is time to fight back! ~ Elizabeth Warren

On my last day of shooting, I'd be happy to say 'Cut, it's a wrap' and fall off the twig. ~ Richard Attenborough

We're to blame because we let them steal," she told him.
"Let them? We caused 'em to steal?"
"Yes. We caused them to steal. Penny at a time. Nickel at a time. Dime. A quarter. A dollar. We were easy going. We were good-natured. We didn't want money just for the sake of having money. We didn't want other folks' money If it meant they had to do without. We smiled across their counters a penny at a time. We smiled in through their cages a nickel at a time. We handed a quarter out our front door. We handing them money along the street. We signed our names to their old papers. We didn't want money, so we didn't steal money, and we spoiled them, we petted them, and we humored them. We let them steal from us. We knew that they were hooking us. We knew it. We knew when they jacked up their prices. We knew when they cut down on the price of our work. We knew that. We knew they were stealing. We taught them how to steal. We let them. We let them think they they could cheat us because we are just plain old common everyday people. They got the habit."
"They really got the habit," Tike said.
"Like dope. Like whiskey. Like tobacco. Like snuff. Like morphine or opium or old smoke of some kind. They got the regular habit of taking us for damned old silly fools."
House of Earth Woody Guthrie ~ Woody Guthrie

The truth is, it is the younger inexperience gangsters who often cut down the older original gangsters. The best way for this young thug to prove himself to others, is to simply cut down an established gangster.
Thus, this cruel cycle of senseless violence repeats itself, with the younger being more vicious and rootless than his predecessor. It's the dog, who kills the lion, and once he has killed the lion, he's no longer a dog; he's now a lion himself. ~ Drexel Deal

Politics and prostitution have to be the only jobs where inexperience is considered a virtue. In what other profession would you brag about not knowing stuff? "I'm not one of those fancy Harvard heart surgeons. I'm just an unlicensed plumber with a dream and I'd like to cut your chest open." The crowd cheers. ~ Tina Fey

What bothered me wasn't so much the girl's obvious flirting, but the fact that Chris hadn't cut it off. I mean, two-hundred-plus messages? Come on!
But my reaction may have been over the top.
"I don't need this shit!" I yelled, storming into the bedroom where he was still asleep. I threw my coffee-lukewarm, fortunately-all over him.
"What? What?" he mumbled, not yet awake.
"Get the hell out!" I screamed.
There were a lot of expletives. As a Navy SEAL, Chris had surely heard worse-even from me-but he was completely caught off guard.
"I'm not hiding anything!" he protested when he realized from my tirade what I was mad about.
I continued to let him have it.
"The kids can hear you," he said finally.
"Good!" I screamed.
On and on-it was a good rant, let me tell you. I completely and totally lost it. Chris got up and left, wisely seeing that as the smart thing to do.
I was still frothing. My dad came in, no doubt wondering why his daughter had turned into the Wicked Witch of the West. I showed him some of the messages.
"Look at this! Look at this!" I shouted, as if my father were Chris's defense attorney. "What do you think of this? Why would he do this?"
"These are no big deal," said my dad.
"It is a big deal. This how it starts."
I was furious. If I hadn't had the one experience with the old girlfriend, maybe I wouldn't have gone so ballistic. In any event, I just saw red. ~ Taya Kyle

Since once again, Lord - though this time not in the forests of the Aisne but in the steppes of Asia - I have neither bread, nor wine, nor altar, I will raise myself beyond these symbols, up to the pure majesty of the Real itself; I, your priest, will make the whole earth my altar and on it will offer you all the labours and sufferings of the world.

Over there, on the horizon, the sun has just touched with light the outermost fringe of the eastern sky. Once again, beneath this moving sheet of fire, the living surface of the earth wakes and trembles, and once again begins its fearful travail. I will place on my paten, O God, the harvest to be won by this renewal of labour. Into my chalice I shall pour all the sap which is to be pressed out this day from the earth's fruits.

My paten and my chalice are the depths of a soul laid widely open to all the forces which in a moment will rise up from every corner of the earth and converge upon the Spirit. Grant me the remembrance and the mystic presence of all those whom the light is now awakening to the new day . . .

Over every living thing which is to spring up, to grow, to flower, to ripen during this day say again the words: 'This is my Body'. And over every death-force which waits in readiness to corrode, to wither, to cut down, speak again your commanding words which express the supreme mystery of faith: 'This is my Blood'. ~ Pierre Teilhard De Chardin

In Fort Wayne, Indiana, a must-stop is Fort Wayne Coney Island Weiner Stand, where you get the hot dog with way too many fresh-cut onions and a dollop of chili on top. How dogs that are prepared this way in the Midwest are known as "Coney Island hot dogs" but have really nothing to do with Coney Island, New York. The only thing that I can figure out about the origin of the name is that a hundred years ago when someone from Fort Wayne, Indiana, decided to open a hot dog place, they named it after Coney Island, because that seemed like a faraway place where people ate hot dogs and they would probably sell more "Coney Island hot dogs" than "chili dogs" (as everyone else called them) because Coney Island sounded more romantic. Yes, to people in Fort Wayne in 1914, Coney Island seemed romantic. Fort Wayne Coney Island Weiner Stand has been serving their hot dogs that way since, well, since people wanted a pound of fresh onions and chili on their hot dog. ~ Jim Gaffigan

The painting showed a hairless, oppressed creature with a head like an inverted pear, its hands clapped in horror to its ears, its mouth open in a vast, soundless scream. Twisted ripples of the creature's torment, echoes of its cry, flooded out into the air surrounding it; the man or woman, whichever it was, had become contained by its own howl. It had covered its ears against its own sound. The creature stood on a bridge and no one else was present; the creature screamed in isolation. Cut off by - or despite - its outcry. ~ Philip K. Dick

He had told Downing that they would let the lady decide. That perhaps it was in Charlotte's best interest to accept and show her father what his actions wrought ... But she had cut the conversation short, said adieu, turned from all of them. Strode directly to her fate without another word.
Not just from pride or anger though.
He looked at her, at the delicate skin of her flawless neck, and smiled. No, her pulse didn't jump like that as a result of pride or anger or fear. Her voice didn't hitch [due to] chagrin at an unfortunate turn of events. That jump, that hitch ... what the telltale signs meant ... that was why she was doomed. ~ Anne Mallory

I hear that there are plans afoot to produce a remake of Hans Christian Andersen's classic - 'The Emperor's New Clothes'. Who better to star in the leading role than recently defrocked Foreign Secretary Boris Johnson ? A narcissist with such naked ambition; an opportunist with such threadbare morals; a disgraced politician with such thinly veiled contempt for the British electorate, and judging by the sycophantic praise they heap on each other, arguably cut from the very same cloth as Donald Trump. Despite laughable pretensions of having the stature and fortitude of a modern day Churchill, he cuts a now lonely figure, a mere insignificant shadow. Boris, you can't hide anymore. Your warts and all are exposed for the whole world to see. ~ Alex Morritt

A few days later, I found myself back in the cellar. But this time, I was involved in an activity way more fun than cataloging magic junk.
"What happened to the promise of making out in castles?" I asked as Archer and I pulled back for a breather. I was leaning back against one of the shelves, my hands clutching Archer's waist. Over his shoulder, there was a jar of eyeballs staring at me, and I nodded toward it. "Because, see, things like that? Kind of a mood killer."
He glanced at the jar and then turned back to me, waggling his eyebrows. "Really? I find it has the opposite effect."
Giggling, I elbowed him in the stomach and pushed myself off the shelf. "You're sick."
He smiled and ducked his head to kiss me again, but I skirted around him. "Come on, Cross, we came down here for a reason, and it wasn't fooling around."
Smirking, Archer folded his arms over his chest. "May not have been your reason, but-"
I cut him off. "No. Don't distract me with your sexy talk. We need to search this place, and that spell Elodie did will only last so long." Elodie had swooped into my body at the cellar door, doing a quick spell to unlock it. She hadn't even looked at Archer, much less said anything. And the second the lock clicked open, she'd vanished.
The smirk disappeared from Archer's face, and he actually looked kind of sullen.
"Are you honestly that bummed about not hooking up right now?" I teased.
But he was deadly serious when he shook his ~ Rachel Hawkins

I went through a real punk stage-I had braids, red hair, pink hair, green hair, I cut it into a Mohawk, the lot. Then about five years ago, I dyed it dark and stayed out of the sun to get pale, because I hated looking like everyone else, all blonde hair and tanned skin. ~ Katie McGrath

Julia arrived at "just do it" as a personal credo long before Nike snapped it up. Nothing anyone thought about her could stop her. Imagine a life in which you're never too anything for anything. Never too old to go back and get that degree. Never too uncoordinated to cut loose on the dance floor. Never too wrong-of-body to wear that swimsuit and throw yourself into the waves. ~ Karen Karbo

Vladimir Nabokov and George Orwell had quite different gifts, and their self-images were quite different. But, I shall argue, their accomplishment was pretty much the same. Both of them warn the liberal ironist intellectual against temptations to be cruel. Both of them dramatise the tension between private irony and liberal hope.

In the following passage, Nabokov helped blur the distinctions which I want to draw:

...'Lolita' has no moral in tow. For me a work of fiction exists only in so far as it affords me what I shall bluntly call aesthetic bliss, that is a sense of being somehow, somewhere, connected with other states of being where art (curiosity, tenderness, kindness, ecstasy) is the norm. There are not many such books. All the rest is either topical trash or what some call the Literature of Ideas, which very often is topical trash coming in huge blocks of plaster that are carefully transmitted from age to age until somebody comes along with a hammer and takes a good crack at Balzac, at Gorki, at Mann.

Orwell blurred the same distinctions when, in one of his rare descents into rant, "The Frontiers of Art and Propaganda," he wrote exactly the sort of thing Nabokov loathed:

You cannot take a purely aesthetic interest in a disease you are dying from; you cannot feel dispassionately about a man who is about to cut your throat. In a world in which Fascism and Socialism were fighting one another, any thinking person had to take side ~ Richard M. Rorty

One has to be wounded in order to become a healer. This is the local image of a universal mythological motif, which is described in Eliade's book about the initiation of medicine men and shamans. Nobody becomes either one or the other without first having been wounded, either cut open by the initiator and having certain magical stones inserted into his body, or a spear thrown at his neck, or some such thing. Generally, the experiences are ecstatic – stars or ghost-like demons – hit them or cut them open, but always they have to be pierced or cut apart before they become healers, for that is how they acquire the capacity for healing others. ~ Marie-Louise Von Franz

For a bag of pepper, they could cut each other's throats without hesitation, and would forswear their souls ... The bizarre obstinacy of that desire made them defy death in a thousand shapes; the unknown seas, the loathsome diseases; wounds, captivity, hunger, pestilence and despair. It made them great! By heavens! It made them heroic; and it made them pathetic, too, in their craving for trade with the inflexible death levying its toll on young and old ~ Joseph Conrad

Lao Tzu says: "Accept yourself. Non-acceptance is the root of all the trouble." None of us accept ourselves. The more a person doesn't accept himself, the greater a mahatma he looks to others to be. We are our greatest enemy. If we had our way, we would cut ourselves to pieces in order to remove what was unacceptable. ~ Rajneesh

In one respect a cavalry charge is very like ordinary life. So long as you are all right, firmly in your saddle, your horse in hand, and well armed, lots of enemies will give you a wide berth. But as soon as you have lost a stirrup, have a rein cut, have dropped your weapon, are wounded, or your horse is wounded, then is the moment when from all quarters enemies rush upon you. Such ~ Winston S. Churchill

Our life is a short time in expectation, a time in which sadness and joy kiss each other at every moment. There is a quality of sadness that pervades all the moments of our lives. It seems that there is no such thing as a clear-cut pure joy, but that even in the most happy moments of our existence we sense a tinge of sadness. In every satisfaction, there is an awareness of limitations. In every success, there is the fear of jealousy. Behind every smile, there is a tear. In every embrace, there is loneliness. In every friendship, distance. And in all forms of light, there is the knowledge of surrounding darkness ... But this intimate experience in which every bit of life is touched by a bit of death can point us beyond the limits of our existence. It can do so by making us look forward in expectation to the day when our hearts will be filled with perfect joy, a joy that no one shall take away from us. ~ Henri J.M. Nouwen

But it so happens that everything on this planet is, ultimately, irrational; there is not, and cannot be, any reason for the causal connexion of things, if only because our use of the word "reason" already implies the idea of causal connexion. But, even if we avoid this fundamental difficulty, Hume said that causal connexion was not merely unprovable, but unthinkable; and, in shallower waters still, one cannot assign a true reason why water should flow down hill, or sugar taste sweet in the mouth. Attempts to explain these simple matters always progress into a learned lucidity, and on further analysis retire to a remote stronghold where every thing is irrational and unthinkable.

If you cut off a man's head, he dies. Why? Because it kills him. That is really the whole answer. Learned excursions into anatomy and physiology only beg the question; it does not explain why the heart is necessary to life to say that it is a vital organ. Yet that is exactly what is done, the trick that is played on every inquiring mind. Why cannot I see in the dark? Because light is necessary to sight. No confusion of that issue by talk of rods and cones, and optical centres, and foci, and lenses, and vibrations is very different to Edwin Arthwait's treatment of the long-suffering English language.

Knowledge is really confined to experience. The laws of Nature are, as Kant said, the laws of our minds, and, as Huxley said, the generalization of observed facts.

It is, t ~ Aleister Crowley

And she said, in a voice strangely unlike her own, 'I see the vision of a poor weak soul striving after good. It was not cut short; and, in the end, it learnt, through tears and much pain, that holiness is an infinite compassion for others; that greatness is to take the common things of life and walk truly among them; that' - she moved her white hand and laid it on her forehead - 'happiness is a great love and much serving. It was not cut short; and it loved what it had learnt - it loved ~ Olive Schreiner

I got back from the University late in the afternoon, had a quick swim, ate my dinner, and bolted off to the Stanton house to see Adam. I saw him sitting out on the galley reading a book (Gibbon, I remember) in the long twilight. And I saw Anne. I was sitting in the swing with Adam, when she came out the door. I looked at her and knew that it had been a thousand years since I had last seen her back at Christmas when she had been back at the Landing on vacation from Miss Pound's School. She certainly was not now a little girl wearing round-toed, black patent-leather, flat-heeled slippers held on by a one-button strap and white socks held up by a dab of soap. She was wearing a white linen dress, cut very straight, and the straightness of the cut and the stiffness of the linen did nothing in the world but suggest by a kind of teasing paradox the curves and softnesses sheathed by the cloth. She had her hair in a knot on the nape of her neck, and a little white ribbon around her head, and she was smiling at me with a smile which I had known all my life but which was entirely new, and saying, 'Hello, Jack,' while I held her strong narrow hand in mine and knew that summer had come. ~ Robert Penn Warren

Hillary Clinton has decided to line up with John McCain in pushing to suspend the federal excise tax on gasoline, 18.4 cents a gallon, for this summer's travel season. This is not an energy policy. This is money laundering: we borrow money from China and ship it to Saudi Arabia and take a little cut for ourselves as it goes through our gas tanks. What a way to build our country. ~ Thomas Friedman

Trying to plan for the future without knowing the past is like trying to plant cut flowers. ~ David Boorstin

Village life is like an ivy vine climbing a great oak. You cut off the vine at the root, and all the way up the tree, the leaves wither. We're all connected." For ~ Julie Klassen

In the United States I saw how the market liberates the individual and allows people to be free to make personal choices. But the biggest drawback was that the market always pushes things to the side of the powerful. I thought the poor should be able to take advantage of the system in order to improve their lot.
Grameen is a private-sector self-help bank, and as its members gain personal wealth they acquire water-pumps, latrines, housing, education, access to health care, and so on.
Another way to achieve this is to let abusiness earn profit that is then txed by the government, and the tax can be used to provide services to the poor. But in practice it never works that way. In real life, taxes only pay for a government bureaucracy that collects the tax and provides little or nothing to the poor. And since most government bureaucracies are not profit motivated, they have little incentive to increase their efficiency. In fact, they have a disincentive: governments often cannot cut social services without a public outcry, so the behemoth continues, blind and inefficient, year after year. ~ Muhammad Yunus

Shame and discipline won't cut it First, shame is not an agent of change. Like a shot of caffeine in the morning, self-loathing may propel us onto the road of change, but we will find that hatred of self only leads us onto a never-ending roundabout. Like being terrified by a number on the scale in the morning and vowing never to overeat again, a shot of shame may get us through to lunch but never through to our freedom. Self-hatred, shame, and fear - though rampant in so many of our hidden worlds - are simply never going to be capable of creating or sustaining the growth we long for. Yet most women try to use shame as their inner motivator. I know I have. ~ Stasi Eldredge

The scampi tasted sweet like a lobster fed only on honey and it cut into the deep undertone of flavor deposited on the taste buds by the truffles. ~ Pat Conroy