Unwholesome Sitting Addicts Quotes

Western intellectuals are all sitting-addicts. That's why most of you are so repulsively unwholesome. ~ Aldous Huxley

I turn and I walk my tray to the conveyor and I drop it on the belt and I start to walk out of the Dining Hall. As I head through the Glass Corridor separating the men and women, I see Lilly sitting alone at a table. She looks up at me and she smiles and our eyes meet and I smile back. She looks down and I stop walking and I stare at her. She looks up and she smiles again. She is as beautiful a girl as I have ever seen. Her eyes, her lips, her teeth, her hair, her skin. The black circles beneath her eyes, the scars I can see on her wrists, the ridiculous clothes she wears that are ten sizes too big, the sense of sadness and pain she wears that is even bigger. I stand and I stare at her, just stare stare stare. Men walk past me and other women look at me and LIlly doesn't understand what I'm doing or why I'm doing it and she's blushing and it's beautiful. I stand there and I stare. I stare because I know where I am going I'm not going to see any beauty. They don't sell crack in Mansions or fancy Department Stores and you don't go to luxury Hotels or Country Clubs to smoke it. Strong, cheap liquor isn't served in five-star Restaurants or Champagne Bars and it isn't sold in gourmet Groceries or boutique Liquor stores. I'm going to go to a horrible place in a horrible neighborhood run by horrible people providing product for the worst Society has to offer. There will be no beauty there, nothing even resembling beauty. There will be Dealers and Addicts and Criminals and Whores and ~ James Frey

Frankie was making me work for my forgiveness. It had taken several days, a thousand phone messages, and a seriously overpriced Vogue Hommes International shoved through his mail slot to get him even to speak to me. He was sitting across the table from me now, arms crossed over his chest (to be fair, he did that a lot when wearing that particular cashmere sweater; it covered the repaired moth hole at the point of the V-neck), glowering a little. I nudged the cannoli another millimeter toward him. It was chocolate chip,his fave.
"So I screwed up twice." I was wrapping up my tale of guilt and woe. "Edward I don't mind so much now. We just were too different for it to work out in the end..." I chanced a glance at Frankie's sulky face to see if he found that at all humorous. Apparently not.,. I sighed and went for honesty. "Alex...That one has walloped me."
Frankie darted out a finger and scooped a little of the filling from the cannoly. I resisted the urge to fling myself across the table and hug him until he squeaked. "The sharks were good," he acknowledged, and not even too reluctantly. "Insane but good."
"Yeah.And Ferdinand. I'll introduce you sometime."
Frankie wrinkled his perfect nose. "I'll take my stingray as a shagreen wallet, thank you."
I laughed.Not that I appreciated the thought of Ferdinand as an accessory,but I was just so happy to have my Frankie back.
He read my mind and waved a cannoli-tipped finger at me. "Ah.You are not forgiven ~ Melissa Jensen

What are we looking for?"
"I don't know-evidence?" Mikey said, sitting behind the keyboard, pretending to hack. I laughed. "This is so Crime Scene Extreme seriously though, is it even possible to view log-in records user-side?"
"Hmm, yes," Mikey said tapping his finger on his pseudointellectually. "You're right. This sounds like a job for a Crackhead. ~ Rae Mariz

Cooking gave us not just the meal but also the occasion: the practice of eating together at an appointed time and place. This was something new under the sun, for the forager of raw food would have likely fed himself on the go and alone, like all the other animals. (Or, come to think of it, like the industrial eaters we've more recently become, grazing at gas stations and eating by ourselves whenever and wherever.) But sitting down to common meals, making eye contact, sharing food, and exercising self-restraint all served to civilize us. ~ Michael Pollan

By the nature of the sport and the danger we face daily, we are very close knit. Some of us have spent most of our lives together. To give you an example, having spent two decades sitting next to Richard Johnson and seeing him virtually every day, I have probably spent more time with him than I have my family, and he the same. ~ Tony McCoy

I want to be with my wife. Sitting on a deckchair, sipping some tea, and reading books in a retirement home, in a beautiful and warm place. I'm a romantic guy. ~ Robert Pattinson

Victor spread his hands and beamed. "There's a truckload of supplies sitting on a dock in Madera. We got food, medicine, and machines ready to roll. All we need is a pigheaded truck driver with giant cojones and no brains to ram the stuff past the blockade and save the day." The pilot leaned back and put his hands behind his head. "Naturally, I thought of Abel Yeager. ~ Scott Bell

It was the world of Southern, rural, black growing up, of folks sitting on porches day and night, of folks calling your mama, 'cause you walked by and didn't speak, and of the switch waiting when you got home so that you could be taught some manners. It was a world of single black older women schoolteachers, dedicated, tough; they had taught your mama, her sisters, and her friends. They knew your people in ways that you never would and shared their insight, keeping us in touch with generations. It was a world where we had a history. ~ Bell Hooks

I could imagine Cnut sitting there and thinking that I must join him soon, and we would raise a horn of ale together. There is no pain in Valhalla, no sadness, no tears, no broken oaths. ~ Bernard Cornwell

Aaron sketched up a tattoo design for me. We'll start on it soon, but he thinks I can't handle all the pain in one sitting, so he's breaking it into parts."
"What's the tattoo of and where will it be?" he asked, glancing over my breasts.
"A fallen angel and it won't be on my boobs, Judd."
Laughing at my tone, he didn't seem to hear the first part. I saw when the words registered. "Why fallen?" he asked, his gaze harder now.
Holding his gaze, I refused to back down. "You know."
"Fuck you for thinking that makes you fallen."
"Fuck you for thinking you know what I am."
Judd suddenly laughed. "What?"
Grudgingly, I smiled. "Whatever. You're irritating me."
"Where's the tat going to be? Something around your heart shaped ass maybe?"
"Heart shaped?"
Judd wiggled his eyebrows at me. "I love that damn ass of yours. Shit, this morning when you walked over to get your clothes, I about jizzed myself."
"Yummy. Best breakfast conversation ever. ~ Bijou Hunter

The principle of analogy is so simple, so natural, that everyone uses it in daily life. Imagine someone sitting down in front of the television after a long day at work. The first image he sees is that of a giant reptile squashing tall buildings. Is one's first hunch, "Oh! The news channel!"? Probably not. More likely one surmises the TV set had been left on the science fiction channel. Why? Because one's world of contemporary experience does not include newscasts of giant dinosaurs wreaking havoc in modern cities, but one has seen monster movies in which such disasters are quite typical. Which analogy does the TV screen image fit? ~ Robert M. Price

Doubtful whether their rays have even yet discovered it, as a point in space where anything is suffered or done: the shadows of the night were broad and black. All through the cold and restless interval, until dawn, they once more whispered in the ears of Mr. Jarvis Lorry - sitting opposite the buried man who had been dug out, and wondering what ~ Charles Dickens

The nutritionist said I should eat root vegetables.
Said if I could get down thirteen turnips a day
I would be grounded, rooted.
Said my head would not keep flying away
to where the darkness lives.

The psychic told me my heart carries too much weight.
Said for twenty dollars she'd tell me what to do.
I handed her the twenty. She said, "Stop worrying, darling.
You will find a good man soon."

The first psycho therapist told me to spend
three hours each day sitting in a dark closet
with my eyes closed and ears plugged.
I tried it once but couldn't stop thinking
about how gay it was to be sitting in the closet.

The yogi told me to stretch everything but the truth.
Said to focus on the out breath. Said everyone finds happiness
when they care more about what they give
than what they get.

The pharmacist said, "Lexapro, Lamicatl, Lithium, Xanax."

The doctor said an anti-psychotic might help me
forget what the trauma said.

The trauma said, "Don't write these poems.
Nobody wants to hear you cry
about the grief inside your bones."

But my bones said, "Tyler Clementi jumped
from the George Washington Bridge
into the Hudson River convinced
he was entirely alone."

My bones said, "Write the poems. ~ Andrea Gibson

But maybe this is what Hannah has always wanted: a man who will deny her. A man of her own who isn't hers. Isn't it the real reason she broke up with Mike--not because he moved to North Carolina for law school (he wanted her to go with him, and she said no) but because he adored her? If she asked him to get out of bed and bring her a glass of water, he did. If she was in a bad mood, he tried to soothe her. It didn't bother him if she cried, or if she didn't wash her hair or shave her legs or have anything interesting to say. He forgave it all, he always thought she was beautiful, he always wanted to be around her. It became so boring! She'd been raised, after all, not to be accommodated but to accommodate, and if she was his world, then his world was small, he was easily satisfied. After a while, when he parted her lips with his tongue, she'd think, Thrash, thrash, here we go. She wanted to feel like she was striving cleanly forward, walking into a bracing wind and learning from her mistakes, and she felt instead like she was sitting in a deep, squishy sofa, eating Cheetos, in an overheated room. With Oliver, there is always contrast to shape their days, tension to keep them on their toes: You are far form me, you are close to me. We are fighting, we are getting along. ~ Curtis Sittenfeld

There were nights when I left the sessions physically and emotionally drained after hearing the anguish pour out like blood from a gaping wound. Don't let anyone ever tell you different – psychotherapy is one of the most taxing endeavors known to mankind; I've done all sorts of work, from picking carrots in the scorching sun to sitting on national committees in paneled board rooms, and there's nothing that compares to confronting human misery hour after hour and bearing the responsibility for easing that misery using only one's mind and mouth. At its best it's tremendously uplifting as you watch the patient open up, breathe, let go of the pain. At its worst is like surfing in a cesspool struggling for balance while being slapped with wave after putrid wave. ~ Jonathan Kellerman

Nobody sees any one as he is, let alone an elderly lady sitting opposite a strange young man in a railway carriage. They see a whole
they see all sorts of things
they see themselves ... ~ Virginia Woolf

This would be the third year that she would try halfheartedly to keep her mother unaware that there even was a Fall Ball,let alone the theme. But there was no question that Mrs. Winslow would get the info somehow, probably within six hours of the announcement. It didn't matter that she was presently in the Caribbean. She was connected. By morning,she would be on the phone to someone in New York or Paris or Milan, finding the perfect costume for her daughter.
The last one was a historically accurate replica of an eighteenth-century dress, appropraite to rural New York State gentility, no less. It had possessed a wig, corset, and padded butt. Sadie,itchy and unable to breathe, let alone eat or drink or shake her extended booty, had spent the four hours of the dance sitting in a dark corner.I,dressed in a high-necked, tattered, and "blood"-spattered white dress and veil (Bride of the Headless Horseman),sat with her. ~ Melissa Jensen

Once a man and his wife were sitting by the entrance to their house. They had a roasted chicken in front of them and were about to eat it when the man saw his father coming toward them. So the man quickly grab the chicken and hid it because he didn't want to give him any. The old man came, had a drink, and went away. As the son reached to put the roasted chicken back on the table, he found that it had turned into a large toad, which then spring onto his face, sat right on it, and wouldn't leave him. If anyone tried to take it off, the toad would look at the person viciously as if it wanted to spring right into his face, too. So nobody dared touch it. And the ungrateful son had to feed the toad every day, otherwise, it would have eaten away part of his face. Thus the son wandered aimlessly all over the world. ~ Jacob Grimm

I wrote that song for my wife, and it's what some guy who's sitting under a tree would be singing to the woman of his life, telling her how wonderful she is. To me, that's more lasting than something that sounds like it belongs on a movie soundtrack. ~ John Fogerty

Consider a small child sitting on his mother's lap while she reads him a picture book. The picture book opens to a width that effectively places the child at the center of a closed circle - that of mother's body, arms, and the picture book ... That circle, so private and intimate, is a place apart form the demands and stresses of daily life, a sanctuary in and from which the child can explore the many worlds offered in picture books. Despite all of our society's technological advances, it still just takes one child, one book, and one reader, to create this unique space, to work this everyday magic. ~ Martha V. Parravano

The cat joined the Re-education Committee and was very active in it for some days. She was seen one dag sitting on a roof and talking to some sparrows who were just out of her reach. She was telling them that all animals were now comrades and that any sparrow who chose could come and perch on her paw; but the sparrows kept their distance. ~ George Orwell

There they were," she went on, "the stars. And he asked himself, my great-grandfather - that boy: 'What are they? Why are they? And who am I?' as one does, sitting alone, with no one to talk to, looking at the stars. ~ Virginia Woolf

I don't know why religious zealots have this compulsion to try to convert everyone who passes before them – I don't go around trying to make them into St Louis Cardinals fans, for Christ's sake – and yet they never fail to try.
Nowadays when accosted I explain to them that anyone wearing white socks with Hush Puppies and a badge saying HI! I'M GUS! probably couldn't talk me into getting out of a burning car, much less into making a lifelong commitment to a deity, and ask them to send someone more intelligent and with a better dress sense next time, but back then I was too meek to do anything but listen politely and utter non-committal 'Hmmmm's' to their suggestions that Jesus could turn my life around. Somewhere over the Atlantic, as I was sitting taking stock of my 200 cubic centimetres of personal space, as one does on a long plane flight, I spied a coin under the seat in front of me, and with protracted difficulty leaned forward and snagged it. When I sat up, I saw my seatmate was at last looking at me with that ominous glow.
'Have you found Jesus?' he said suddenly.
'Uh, no, it's a quarter,' I answered and quickly settled down and pretended for the next six hours to be asleep, ignoring his whispered entreaties to let Christ build a bunkhouse in my heart. ~ Bill Bryson

I don't believe in cancer walks. Well, I believe in them because they exist but I'd rather just give money straight up and save my Saturday afternoon. I can make my own t-shirt, that's not incentive. Plus I don't think cancer responds to how far people walk. I don't think cancer's sitting at home, 'What? How many people walked how far? How many people walked how far wearing the same shirt? That's crazy! I'm out of here!' Remission. ~ Hannibal Buress

Alec, who was watching this back-and-forth as if sitting center court in a tennis match, raised a hand. "I'm sorry, but did you two used to date?"
That stopped the conversation dead in its tracks. Both Tessa and Magnus turned to him with identical looks of shock.
"You seem more horrified than I do," Magnus told Tessa, "and somehow I am deeply wounded. ~ Cassandra Clare

Remember that time we got snowed in at school? Everyone had to wait for their parents to get them, but our parents didn't come."
"God," I said, "I'd forgotten. Why can't I remember any of this stuff without being reminded?"
"School bus driver had to take us home eventually. We were the only two kids on the bus."
"I can picture us," I said, "sitting next to each other on that backseat. It's such a sad scene, really."
I felt him look at me. "I don't think so. I never thought of it as sad."
"But Cameron, every single kid in the school got picked up by their parents except us!" I was laughing now at the tragic ridiculousness of it. "It was pathetic!"
"We head each other. I never needed anyone else. That's the difference between you and me," he said. "You need all these people around you. Your friends, your boyfriend, everyone. Every single person has to like you. I only ever needed that one person. Only ever needed you."
"Not everyone has to like me," I protested. "It's just..." We'd arrived at my house. "Imagine if you'd believed I died," I said. "Trust me, you'd start to need other people. You had the luxury of always knowing I was alive, knowing where I was and what I was doing. I didn't have that, Cameron."
"I didn't think of it that way when it was happening," he said. "Didn't ever think you needed me much as I needed you."
"I did."
"I'm sorry," he said. "But I knew you'd be okay."
"How, Cameron? How did you know that?"< ~ Sara Zarr

There is no miserable place waiting for you, no hell realm, sitting and waiting like Alaska - waiting to turn you into ice cream. But whatever you call it - hell or the suffering realms - it is something that you enter by creating a world of neurotic fantasy and believing it to be real. It sounds simple, but that's exactly what happens. ~ Lama Thubten Yeshe

Amazingly, Jackal staggered to his feet, holding his stomach with one hand, the stake still clenched in the other. "You're a freaking insane 'person', you know that?" he snarled at Sarren, who calmly picked up a pipe and advanced on him. "So the whole time you were sitting on that research, you decided, 'hey, instead of curing Rabidism, I'm just going to make a superplague and wipe everything out! That'll show them!'" He sneered, curling his lips back in a painful grimance. "But you'll have to pardon me for not jumping on your little DESTROY THE WORLD train. I happen to like this world, thanks. ~ Julie Kagawa

Writing is total grunt work. A lot of people think it's all about sitting and waiting for the muse. I don't buy that. It's a job. There are days when I really want to write, days when I don't. Every day I sit down and write. ~ Jodi Picoult

It's about you. I always thought that you would need some time, you know, to grow up, but I think I just realized that it's never going to happen, not while I'm sitting around waiting for it. ~ Emma Straub

How can this be? How could we have been just sitting there, happily eating our lunch, and then Jess announces that she's gay? Like who does that anyway? And how is it possible that I never even saw this coming? I mean if you best friend has no clue that you're gay, then who does? ~ Melody Carlson

They were sitting on opposite sides of the board, playing each other in hopes of gaining the same prize. ~ Lisa Maxwell

A rock band used to be four guys and a drummer. Now it's five guys sitting around reading manuals! ~ Bill Bruford