Throwers Quotes

Thunderously, inarguably, the Sermon on the Mount proves that before God we all stand on level ground: murderers and temper-throwers, adulterers and lusters, thieves and coveters. We are all desperate, and that is in fact the only state appropriate to a human being who wants to know God. Having fallen from the absolute Ideal, we have nowhere to land but in the safety net of absolute grace. ~ Philip Yancey

Yes. Do you remember?"
Once more a shrug of the shoulders. "How should I remember? We have questioned thousands - "
"Questioned! Beaten into unconsciousness, kidneys crushed, bones broken, thrown into cellars like sacks, dragged up again, faces torn, testicles crushed - that was what you called questioning! The hot frightful moaning of those who were no longer able to cry - questioned! The whimpering between unconsciousness and consciousness, kicks in the belly, rubber clubs, whips - yes, all that you innocently called 'questioning'!"
"Don't move your hands! Or I'll shoot you down! Do you remember little Max Rosenberg who lay beside me in the cellar with his torn body and who tried to smash his head on the cement wall to keep from being questioned again - questioned, why? Because he was a democrat! And Willmann who passed blood and had no teeth and only one eye left after he had been questioned by you for two hours - questioned, why? Because he was a Catholic and did not believe your Fuehrer was the new Messiah. And Riesenfeld whose head and back looked like raw lumps of flesh and who implored us to bite open his arteries because he was toothless and no longer able to do it himself after he had been questioned by you - questioned, why? Because he was against war and did not believe that culture is most perfectly expressed by bombs and flame throwers. Questioned! Thousands have been questioned, yes - don't move your hands, you swine! And now finally I've got you ~ Erich Maria Remarque

We must shed the old stereotype of anarchists as bearded bomb throwers furtively stalking about city streets at night. ~ Stephen Jay Gould

Andrew Breitbart, self-described media mogul, had several screws loose or missing and was the grinning bomb-thrower of the radical right. He was the attack dog kept on a tight leash and brought out on special occasions to hiss and to menace. ~ Bill Ayers

I'll tell you what I really think about politicians. The other night I watched some politicians on television talking about Vietnam. I wanted very much to burst through the screen with a flame thrower and burn their eyes out and their balls off and then inquire from them how they would assess the action from a political point of view. ~ Harold Pinter

Some pitchers want to be known as the fastest throwers that ever lived. Some want to win 30 games in one season. Some want to pitch a no-hitter. All I want to do is the best I can, day after day. In other words, I want to prove I am the best. ~ Tom Seaver

I leaned across the table towards the crumb-thrower. "Do that again," I said, loud enough to be heard over the opera singer, Dolly, my mother, and the smell of the breadsticks, "and I will sell your firstborn child to the devil. ~ Maggie Stiefvater

Love is a boomerang that returns to the thrower's hand. ~ Austin O'Malley

You see, at the beginning we weren't fighters. We weren't yellers or throwers, even if we eventually came to be. It would take time and much deeper wounds for us to get to that point. ~ Dinaw Mengestu

Food Throwers: Begun usually by estranged couples, once this victual flinging starts, everyone will do it ... Should your dinner party have become an out of control concussion match with opponents catapulting croutons and petits pois across the mahogany, don't fight it, go with it. And when you have the desire to quell the uprising approach the original perpetrator from behind. There, slowly crown her with the contents of the fresh fruit salad bowl. But be warned. Although this immobilizes and rivits everyone's attention it also gives them new ideas. ~ J.P. Donleavy

The bomb-throwers have discredited the cause of freedom, in whose name they threw the bombs. ~ Mahatma Gandhi

Joanna. Remember Joanna. Francie could never forget her. From that time on, remembering the stoning women, she hated women. She feared them for their devious ways, she mistrusted their instincts. She began to hate them for this disloyalty and their cruelty toward each other. Of all the stone-throwers, not one had dared to speak a word for the girl for fear that she would be tarred with Joanna's brush ... Most women had one thing in common: they had great pain when they gave birth to their children. This should make a bond that held them together; it should make them love and protect each other against the man-world. But it was not so. ~ Betty Smith

If you are wondering why other worlds seem so brimful of magic compared to your own dreary Earth, consider how magical this world seems from another perspective. To a world of sea people, your ability to breathe air is stunning; to a world of spear throwers, your machines are demons harnessed to work tirelessly in your service; to a world of glaciers and clouds, summer itself is a miracle. ~ Alix E. Harrow

Pics or it didn't happen."
"Dude, little busy for pics. You know, throwing flame. ~ Rachel Caine

Yo-yo (Tagalog for "come back") evolved from a Philippine hunting tool made from a softball-size stone tied to a length of plant vine or a leather thong which enabled throwers to retrieve the weapon with a simple flick of the wrist (Hoffman 1996). The modern yo-yo thus has a great deal of physics, prehistory, and hunting lore encoded in its maple, beech, or plastic form (see below, Neuro-notes III). ~ David B. Givens

God in His sovereign goodness often uses the painful and at times debilitating injury of a spear thrower to make us readier for His service ... One thing you discover about spear throwers is that though it's not necessary for them to be good, it's essential for them to appear good. ~ Erwin W. Lutzer

Scottish football is full of hammer throwers. ~ Graeme Souness

When his thumb hovered over the red button, she stared at him aghast. "You're truly going to … torture me?"
He cast her a puzzled look. "Why wouldn't I torture you?"
Because you used to love me, used to cherish me. "I thought we had a moment yesterday? Didn't you like seeing me in lingerie?"
In a monotone voice, he said, "Why did the charge throwers have no ill effect on you?"
He's truly going to do it? Then fuck him. DEFCON. "Chase, I've tussled with vibrators stronger than your charge throwers."
No reaction. "You consumed energy. And channeled it at will. How?"
All Valkyrie consumed it - they were each connected through a grid of mystical energy - but Regin was the only one she knew of who could radiate it through her body. She'd inherited the talent from her birth mother. "So how does one get started as a magister? College or trade school?"
"I don't have the time or patience for games. Now, tell me, why do you … glow?"
"I touched a radioactive alien cock once."
He pressed the button. ~ Kresley Cole

I hear whispers the way a knife thrower's assistant hears knives. ~ Sheila Turnage

Her voice was trained, supple as leather, precise as a knife thrower's blade. Singing or talking, it had the same graceful quality, and an accent I thought at first was English, but then realized was the old-fashioned American of a thirties movie, a person who could get away with saying 'grand.' Too classic, they told her when she went out on auditions. It didn't mean old. It meant too beautiful for the times, when anything that lasted longer than six months was considered passe. I loved to listen to her sing, or tell me stories about her childhood in suburban Connecticut, it sounded like heaven. ~ Janet Fitch

Everything could undergo conversion except the artists. How can you convert disorganizers of past and present order, the chronic dissenters, those dispossessed of the present anyway, the atom bomb throwers of the mind, of the emotions, seeking to generate new forces and a new order of mind out of continuous upheavals? ~ Anais Nin

The last summer of his life he sat hours together on the old chintz-covered swing-bed in front of the willow tree, chain-smoking Woodbines and watching the shadows flood the lawn until they swallowed him and only the tip of his ciggarette still showed, a faint red pulse. How she had longed to bring him in, to rescue him as he had rescued his sergeant. Her mother wasn't up to it, sitting all day in the kitchen listening to Alma Cogan and Ronnie Hilton on the wireless, biting her nails until they bled. So, it was she who had gone, crossing the lawn at dusk to stand in front of him, waiting for the right words to come into her head, for a dove that would bring her the gift of speech. But nothing came, and he had gazed at her through the smoke of his ciggarette as though from the far side of a pane of glass. He felt sorry for her perhaps, knowing why she had come out, knowing the impossibility of it. But instead of saying, sit down beside me Alice, sit down, daughter, and we will try to understand together the unbearable truth that love is not always enough, that people cannot always be brought back in, he had said, very conservatively, as though in reference to a discussion he had been having with her in his head for weeks, 'They used flame-throwers, you know'. And she had nodded, yes, Daddy, and left him, and gone to her room, and pushed her face into the pillow and bawled. Because she should have done it, should have, and she had failed. ~ Andrew Miller

You can easily tell when someone has been hit by a spear. he turns a deep shade of bitter. David never got hit. Gradually, he learned a very well-kept secret ...
One, never learn anything about the fashionable, easily mastered art of spear throwing. Two, stay out of the company of all spear throwers. And three, keep your mouth tightly closed.
In this way, spears will never touch you, even when they pierce your heart. ~ Gene Edwards

I don't compete with other discus throwers. I compete with my own history. ~ Al Oerter