#left

In my experience, if you have to keep the lavatory door shut by extending your left leg, it's modern architecture. ↗

— Nancy Banks Smith

#door #experience #extending #keep #lavatory

Art forms that appeal to [leftists] tend to focus on ... defeat and despair ... as if there were no hope of accomplishing anything through rational calculation. ↗

— Theodore Kaczynski

#despair #left #leftism #leftists #reason

We chose thirteen because that is the age that Elvis left to go to Memphis. ↗

— Henry Dodge

#because #chose #elvis #go #left

Weren't you wearing a purity ring when we got here? Aren't you supposed to be saving yourself?" Shanti asked. "Yeah," Mary Lou answered. "And then I thought, for what? You save leftovers. My sex is not a leftover, and it is not a Christmas present. ↗

— Libba Bray

#purity-rings #sexuality #beauty

I left Guiding Light so many times, they ran out of champagne. ↗

— Michael Zaslow

#guiding #i #left #light #many

I do not, as a rule, do encores. When I have finished playing, I have indeed finished playing. I have nothing left; there has been no reserve. ↗

— Bill Dixon

#encores #finished #i #i do #indeed

I didn`t change. The Democratic Party slid to the Left from right under me. ↗

— Charlton Heston

#democrats #left #politics #change

I feel like I've been through a lot in the past couple of years, But I've kept pretty stable. That's because I channel that emotion into performance. I can handle emotion as long as it's only a song. It works for me, and I don't want to change it. I don't have anything left for writing. ↗

— Jennifer Echols

#handling-emotion #nothing-left #sam #song #through-a-lot

Much unhappiness has come into the world because of bewilderment and things left unsaid. ↗

— Fyodor Dostoevsky

#bewilderment #come #into #left #much

Her eyes were of different colors, the left as brown as autumn, the right as gray as Atlantic wind. Both seemed alive with questions that would never be voiced, as if no words yet existed with which to frame them. She was nineteen years old, or thereabouts; her exact age was unknown. Her face was as fresh as an apple and as delicate as blossom, but a marked depression in the bones beneath her left eye gave her features a disturbing asymmetry. Her mouth never curved into a smile. God, it seemed, had withheld that possibility, as surely as from a blind man the power of sight. He had withheld much else. Amparo was touched—by genius, by madness, by the Devil, or by a conspiracy of all these and more. She took no sacraments and appeared incapable of prayer. She had a horror of clocks and mirrors. By her own account she spoke with Angels and could hear the thoughts of animals and trees. She was passionately kind to all living things. She was a beam of starlight trapped in flesh and awaiting only the moment when it would continue on its journey into forever.” (p.33) ↗

— Tim Willocks

#apple #asymmetry #atlantic #autumn #blind-man