Crap Inspirational Quotes

‎Today is a new day. It's a day you have never seen before and will never see again. Stop telling yourself the 'same crap, different day' lie! How many days has that lie stolen from you? Seize the wonder and uniqueness of today! Recognize that throughout this beautiful day, you have an incredible amount of opportunities to move your life into the direction you want it to go.

Everyone has crap in their background, everyone has things they wish they could undo. But most people don't go around doing their best to screw up their present lives because of it.

...(W)here there's drama, there's crap.

For there to be pain, there has to be kindness. For darkness to standout there has to be the sun. You can't have one without the other, and both have their uses. So even if you stumble and make mistakes, that's not useless. Think of it as fertilizer, sure it feels like crap, but it will help you grow!" ~Kyoko Honda

I'm going because my life was crap until I met you. I'm going because I don't want to be here when you're not, still living with my mum and nothing being any different. I wouldn't even be thinking about going if it hadn't been for you.

If someone is being unkind or petty or jealous or distant or weird, you don’t have to take it in. You don’t have to turn it into a big psychodrama about your worth. That behavior so often is not even about you. It’s about the person who’s being unkind or petty or jealous or distant or weird. If this were summed up on a bumper sticker, it would say: Don’t own other people’s crap. The world would be a better place if we all did that.

First forget inspiration. Habit is more dependable. Habit will sustain you whether you’re inspired or not. Habit will help you finish and polish your stories. Inspiration won’t. Habit is persistence in practice. You don’t start out writing good stuff. You start out writing crap and thinking it’s good stuff, and then gradually you get better at it. That’s why I say one of the most valuable traits is persistence.

I hereby grant you permission to write crap. The more the better. Remember, crap makes the best fertilizer.

We did all the tourist crap, but I just wanted to sit in a cafe and watch people

You don't want to give God the credit because you don't think he exists. But if you're going to blame him for all the crap, kid, you got to give him credit for what grows from that fertilized soil.

When people don’t talk so much they don’t dish out the crap either.

Playing it safe and tiptoeing through life is exhausting. Keeping all of your gifts trapped inside tires the crap out of you. It takes the same amount of effort to create something extraordinary as it takes to create something ordinary.

There are moments in every relationship that define when two people start to fall in love. A first glance A first smile A first kiss A first fall… (I remove the Darth Vader house shoes from my satchel and look down at them.) You were wearing these during one of those moments. One of the moments I first started to fall in love with you. The way you gave me butterflies that morning Had absolutely nothing to do with anyone else, and everything to do with you. I was falling in love with you that morning because of you. (I take the next item out of the satchel. When I pull it out and look up, she brings her hands to her mouth in shock.) This ugly little gnome With his smug little grin… He's the reason I had an excuse to invite you into my house. Into my life. You took a lot of aggression out on him over those next few months. I would watch from my window as you would kick him over every time you walked by him. Poor little guy. You were so tenacious. That feisty, aggressive, strong-willed side of you…. The side of you that refused to take crap from this concrete gnome? The side of you that refused to take crap from me? I fell in love with that side of you because of you. (I set the gnome down on the stage and grab the CD) This is your favorite CD ‘Layken’s shit.’ Although now I know you intended for shit to be possessive, rather than descriptive. The banjo started playing through the speakers of your car and I immediately recognized my favorite band. Then when I realized it was your favorite band, too? The fact that these same lyrics inspired both of us? I fell in love with that about you. That had absolutely nothing to do with anyone else. I fell in love with that about you because of you. (I take a slip of paper out of the satchel and hold it up. When I look at her, I see Eddie slide her a napkin. I can’t tell from up here, but that can only mean she’s crying.) This is a receipt I kept. Only because the item I purchased that night was on the verge of ridiculous. Chocolate milk on the rocks? Who orders that? You were different, and you didn’t care. You were being you. A piece of me fell in love with you at that moment, because of you. This? (I hold up another sheet of paper.) This I didn’t really like so much. It’s the poem you wrote about me. The one you titled 'mean?' I don’t think I ever told you… but you made a zero. And then I kept it to remind myself of all the things I never want to be to you. (I pull her shirt from my bag. When I hold it into the light, I sigh into the microphone.) This is that ugly shirt you wear. It doesn’t really have anything to do with why I fell in love with you. I just saw it at your house and thought I’d steal it.

Now that you're a Skinny Bitch, don't turn into a skinny bitch. We conceived of the title, Skinny Bitch, to get attention and sell books.... But we are not bitches, and we have no desire to promote bitchiness. There is nothing uglier than a pretty woman who's nasty. If you look great, you should feel good about yourself and be happy.

People in this country are still waiting for the war of their freedom to come from somewhere else, from the jungles, from the mountains, from China, from Pakistan. That will never happen. Every man must make his own Benaras. The book of your revolution sits in the pit of your belly, young Indian. Crap it out, and read.

His method for taking the measure of a room was saying something definitive and outrageous—“These charts are bullshit!” or “This deal is crap!”—and watching people react. If you were brave enough to come back at him, he often respected it—poking at you, then registering your response, was his way of deducing what you thought and whether you had the guts to champion it.

Truth changes with the season of our emotions. It is the shadow that moves with the phases of our inner sun. When the nights falls, only our perception can guess where it hides in the dark. Within every solar system of the soul lies a plan of what truth is--- the design God has created, in our own unique story. This is as varying as the constellations, and as turning as the tide. It is not one truth we live to, but many. If we ever hope to determine if there is such a thing as truth, apart from cultural and personal preferences, we must acknowledge that we are then aiming to discover something greater than ourselves, something that transcends culture and individual inclinations. Some say that we must look beyond ourselves and outside of ourselves. However, we don’t need to look farther than what is already in each other. If there was any great plan from a higher power it is a simplistic, repetitious theme found in all religions; the basic core importance to unity comes from shared theological and humanistic virtues. Beyond the synagogue, mosques, temples, churches, missionary work, church positions and religious rituals comes a simple “message of truth” found in all of us, that binds theology---holistic virtues combined with purpose is the foundation of spiritual evolution. The diversity among us all is not divided truth, but the opportunity for unity through these shared values. Truth is the framework and roadmap of positive virtues. It unifies diversity when we choose to see it and use it. It is simple message often lost among the rituals, cultural traditions and socializing that goes on behind the chapel doors of any religion or spiritual theology. As we fight among ourselves about what religion, culture or race is right, we often lose site of the simple message any great orator has whispered through time----a simplistic story explaining the importance of virtues, which magically reemphasizes the importance of loving one another through service.

The truth of it is, the shame was not mine, and for all victims in similar situations, it is not ours. The shame is reserved for every creep who has ever touched us inappropriately. The shame is on the abuser, not the victim, not the survivor. It is tragic that so many of us have to survive this kind of crap, and I’m so sorry if it has happened to you.

Writing isn’t necessarily a gift it is a passion. You can write a one page masterpiece to 99 pages of crap. What keeps you coming back is that Zen moment when you enlightened your own self with a few cleverly arranged words and saved yourself a $200 trip to the shrink, by simply buying a #2 pencil.

Motivation is crap. Motivation comes and goes. When you are driven, whatever is in front of you will get destroyed

I pity you Juliet. You don't know what love is. You think it's Valentine's Day, and weekends in Italy. You think it's drinking champagne in some expensive restaurant and being bought stupid bloody underwear. But that's just the trimmings. The decoration. They're just gestures. Without trust, and respect, and kindness, they don't mean shit. I thought love was about caring about someone day in and day out, about being there when it's rucking amazing and still wanting to be there when it feels like crap, I thought it was about forever.

Of all the crap we carry around self-pity is probably the easiest one to let go. You do not have the right to make your misery everyone else’s problem. You do not have license to go out into the world and be an asshole. You do not have the right to hurt others because you are hurting inside. Get over yourself.

When we see the greatness of God in even our very darkest moments, then we can be free. “Even the crappiest crap we go through glorifies God,” Amber likes to say, in her Amber way. “God makes beauty from ashes, and the devil hates when He does that.

I was so inspired," she gushed. "The words just flowed out of me." So does crap.

Inside each of us is our ideal life: our true north.

History didn’t always predict the future. You had to live it one day at a time to find out what happened next.

Be the Kind of Woman that when Your Feet Hit the Floor Each Morning, the Devil Says, ‘Oh Crap, She’s Up!

Saying "Oh, I've already ruined my good eating for today. I'll just eat crap." is like saying "Oh, I dropped my phone on the floor. I'll just smash it till it breaks.

Remember at the junior picnic, when someone whipped that dog at Jennifer's head? And Jennifer was laughing, like it was funny? Ted never copped to it, but I know he did it. I saw him. A-hole.' Rachel shakes her head in disgust. 'She probably deals with that kind of crap every day...' 'That's it. I'm going to ask Jennifer if she wants to sit with us today... I don't like those little turds thinking they can make fun of her because she's on the list. Don't they have any respect for the fact that she's a senior? If she's with us, they wouldn't dare say anything.

Most people just do not give a crap. Especially about you. It is not because you're crap. Mostly it is so because they are. So, you're better than them. Yeah! Now, give a crap!

It's your mind you have to train, like your mom said that one time, you have to separate yourself from all the crap, get down to the core, focus.

She was…perfection. One of those women who inspired vivid sexual fantasies. And for nicer guys, probably poems and songs and sappy crap like that.

Bullshit filters are your best line of defence against all the crap coming at you. Remember…you choose what you let into your mind

How do I stay positive with all the crap going on this world?” That’s an excellent question. The duality of life is part of the holy ride, not every day is supposed to be sunshine and double rainbows. Soul fulfillment is a point of appreciation for rising above the crap with compassion and love. Can we accept life totally and completely or will we continue to see our differences as a reason to separate ourselves from each other?

Things happen. Things that physics and math and crap that gets measured in a lab can't explain. People aren't just laws and rules, Claire. They're... sparks. Sparks of something beautiful and huge. And some sparks glow brighter

If we’re not the one driving our dreams forward, who is? If we don’t figure out how to change jobs, eat healthily, date, fall and stay in love, who will come save us? No one. But, then again, no one should, right? The are, after all, our dreams.

Rearview Mirror Syndrome One of the most crippling causes of mediocrity in life is a condition I call Rearview Mirror Syndrome (RMS). Our subconscious minds are equipped with a self-limiting rearview mirror, through which we continuously relive and recreate our past. We mistakenly believe that who we were is who we are, thus limiting our true potential in the present, based on the limitations of our past.   As a result, we filter every choice we make—from what time we will wake up in the morning to which goals we will set to what we allow ourselves to consider possible for our lives—through the limitations of our past experiences. We want to create a better life, but sometimes we don’t know how to see it any other way than how it’s always been.   Research shows that on any given day, the average person thinks somewhere between 50,000 and 60,000 thoughts. The problem is that ninety-five percent of our thoughts are the same as the ones we thought the day before, and the day before that, and the day before that. It’s no wonder most people go through life, day after day, month after month, year after year, and never change the quality of their lives.   Like old, worn baggage, we carry stress, fear, and worry from yesterday with us into today. When presented with opportunities, we quickly check our rearview mirror to assess our past capabilities. “No, I’ve never done anything like that before. I’ve never achieved at that level. In fact, I’ve failed, time and time again.”   When presented with adversity, we go back to our trusty rearview mirror for guidance on how to respond. “Yep, just my luck. This crap always happens to me. I’m just going to give up; that’s what I’ve always done when things get too difficult.”   If you are to move beyond your past and transcend your limitations, you must stop living out of your rearview mirror and start imagining a life of limitless possibilities. Accept the paradigm:  my past does not equal my future. Talk to yourself in a way that inspires confidence that not only is anything possible, but that you are capable and committed to making it so. It’s not even necessary to believe it at first. In fact, you probably won’t believe it. You might find it uncomfortable and that you resist doing it. That’s okay. Repeat it to yourself anyway, and your subconscious mind will begin to absorb the positive self-affirmations. (More on how to do this in Chapter 6:  The Life S.A.V.E.R.S.)   Don’t place unnecessary limitations on what you want for your life. Think bigger than you’ve allowed yourself to think up until this point. Get clear on what you truly want, condition yourself to the belief that it’s possible by focusing on and affirming it every day, and then consistently move in the direction of your vision until it becomes your reality. There is nothing to fear, because you cannot fail—only learn, grow, and become better than you’ve ever been before.   Always remember that where you are is a result of who you were, but where you go depends entirely on who you choose to be, from this moment on.

What kind of authors do you like?" I asked, speaking in respectful tones to this man two years my senior. "Balzac, Dante, Joseph Conrad, Dickens," he answered without hesitation. "Not exactly fashionable." "That's why I read them. If you only read the books that everyone else is reading, you can only think what everyone else is thinking. That's the world of hicks and slobs. Real people would be ashamed of themselves doing that. Haven't you noticed, Watanabe? You and I are the only real ones in this dorm. The other guys are crap.

Did you ever notice that most of us relate to our lives like we have no control or say over them? Especially in areas where we’re not proud. We speak about ourselves like we’re reporting on the weather, making sweeping generalizations...And boy do we ever believe our own ‘forecasts.

Ever notice how on a bad day you never deserve a salad? I mean how long do you think your bad mood would really last if you only fed your brat celery? How many bad days would your brat tolerate if it no longer got rewarded a drink, a cigarette, or an entire Netflix series on the couch for it.

Run. Eat. Drink. Eat more. Don't throw up. Instead, take a piss. Then take a crap. Wipe your butt. Make a phone call. Open a door. Rid your bik. Ride in a car. Ride in a subway. Talk. Talk to people. Read. Read maps. Make maps. Make art. Talk about your art. Sell your art. Take a test. Get into a school. Celebrate. HAve a party. Write a thank-you note to someone. Hug your mom. Kiss your dad. Kiss your little sister. Make out with Noelle. Make out with her more. Touch her. HOld her hand. Take her out somewhere. Meet her friends. Run down a street with her. Take her on a picnic. Eat with her. See a movie with her. See a move with Aaron. Heck, see a movie with Nia, once you're cool with her. Get cool with more people.. Drink coffee in little coffee-drinking places. Tell people your story. Volunteer. Go back to Six North. Walk in as a volunteer and say hi to everyone who waited on you as a patient. Help people. Help people like Bobby. Get people books and music that they want when they're in there. Help people like Muqtada. Show them how to draw. Draw more. Try drawing a landscape. Try drawing a person. Try drawing a naked person. Try drawing Noelle naked. Travel. Fly. Swim. Meet. Love. Dance. Win. Smile. Laugh. Hold. Walk. Skip. Okay, it's gay, whatever, skip. Ski. Sled. Play basketball. Jog. Run. Run. Run. Run home. Run home and enjoy. Enjoy. Take these verbs and enjoy them. They're yours, Craig. You deserved them because you chose them. You could have left the all behind but you chose to stay here. So now live for real, Craig. Live. Live. Live. Live. Live.

We got to the casino and ordered some drinks. We then walked around, drinking and losing. We had some drinks at the craps table and lost money there. We had some drinks at the slot machines and lost a little more over there. Our drinking and money lasted longer at the blackjack tables, but even there our drinks and winning streak dried up. The more we drank, the flirtier we became. Although I was hemorrhaging money like crazy, I was the luckiest guy in the casino.

All useless, according to the common sense of utility, yet all of them inspiring in me curiosity and the simplest delight. Delight in the fact that beautiful things made by people forty years ago sit around, bringing pleasure to a stranger in the now. It reminds me of my duty, everyone's duty, to the future. My friends kids will need in twenty years to find crap like this at the markets so that they can feel held by the hands of past people's future dreams and not feel totally alone.

What? You’re just going to stand there and watch me?” she snapped at him. “You’re not very nice,” he stated, taking a lesson from his brother. “I’m not nice? You’re the one who busted into a bank and blew a man’s hand to kingdom come!” she said. “You shot me, you kidnapped me, you cut off my hair. I’ve got a bruise in the shape of your handprint on my upper arm. But I’m not a nice person?” she fumed. “Tell me, which of the items on that list would inspire me to be nice to you?” Stacy had worked herself into such a rage that she couldn’t stop. “I swear, I’d love to beat the crap out of you!

Does it make you feel better about yourself? Does it make you kinder to people when you live in that state of misery, in the state of, “I’m too fat. I’m too thin. I’m too young. I’m too old. I’m too . . .”? How is it making you feel? It’s making you feel like crap. Nobody is living in a place of not enough and happy about it. Nobody is inspired and making great choices and enthusiastic and excited for every day while they are living in a state of not enough. The amazing thing is that this is all perception. It’s all what you believe to be true. And you get to decide what you believe. If we were girlfriends in real life I would shake your shoulders and remind you that you get to decide. I am living proof that your past does not determine your future. I am a living, breathing example. I am your friend, Rachel, and I am telling you that I walked through trauma and I walked through pain and I have been bullied and I have felt ugly and unworthy and not enough in a hundred different ways. And I have decided to reclaim my life. I have reclaimed it and fought back against the lies and the limiting beliefs over and over and over again. I have built on that strength by looking at what is true, not what is opinion. And you can too.

Be big enough to offer the truth to people and if it short circuits them I think that's tragic. I think that's sad but, I will not strike no unholy bargains to self erase. I wont do it. I don't care how many people fucked up their lives. I don't care how many bad choices people have made. I don't care how much pettiness they've consumed and spat out. I don't care how much viciousness , rage, abuse, spanking they've dealt out. I am gonna tell the truth as I see it and I'm going to be who I fucking am and if that causes the world to shift in it's orbit and half the evil people get thrown off the planet and up into space well, you shouldn't of been standing in evil to begin with because, there is gravity in goodness. So, sorry; I have to be who I am. Everyone ells is taken. There is no other place I can go than in my own head. I can't jump from skull to skull until I find one that suits bad people around me better. I don't have that choice. So, be your fucking self. Speak your truth and if there are people around you who tempt you with nonexistence , blast through that and give them the full glory of who you are. Do not withhold yourself from the world. Do not piss on the incandescent gift of your existence. Don't drown yourself in the petty fog and dustiness of other peoples ancient superstitions, beliefs, aggressions, culture, and crap. No, be a flare. We're all born self expressive. We are all born perfectly comfortable with being incredibly inconvenient to our parents. We shit, piss, wake up at night, throw up on their shoulders, scream, and cry. We are in our essence, in our humanity, perfectly comfortable with inconveniencing others. That's how we are born. That's how we grow. That's how we develop. Well, I choose to retain the ability to inconvenience the irrational. You know I had a cancer in me last year and I'm very glad that the surgeons knife and the related medicines that I took proved extremely inconvenient to my cancer and I bet you my cancer was like "Aw shit. I hate this stuff man." Good. I'm only alive because medicine and surgery was highly inconvenient to the cancer within me. That's the only reason I'm alive. So, be who you are. If that's inconvenient to other people that's their goddamn business, not yours. Do not kill yourself because other people are dead. Do not follow people into the grave. Do not atomize yourself because, others have shredded themselves into dust for the sake of their fears and their desire to conform with the history of the dead.

Trump doesn’t happen in a country where things are going well. People give in to their baser instincts when they lose faith in the future. The pessimism and anger necessary for this situation has been building for a generation, and not all on one side. A significant number of Trump voters voted for Obama eight years ago. A lot of those were in rust-belt states that proved critical to his election. What happened there? Trump also polled 2–1 among veterans, despite his own horrific record of deferments and his insulting of every vet from John McCain to Humayun Khan. Was it possible that his rhetoric about ending “our current policy of regime change” resonated with recently returned vets? The data said yes. It may not have been decisive, but it likely was one of many factors. It was also common sense, because this was one of his main themes on the campaign trail—Trump clearly smelled those veteran votes. The Trump phenomenon was also about a political and media taboo: class. When the liberal arts grads who mostly populate the media think about class, we tend to think in terms of the heroic worker, or whatever Marx-inspired cliché they taught us in college. Because of this, most pundits scoff at class, because when they look at Trump crowds, they don’t see Norma Rae or Matewan. Instead, they see Married with Children, a bunch of tacky mall-goers who gobble up crap movies and, incidentally, hate the noble political press. Our take on Trump voters was closer to Orwell than Marx: “In reality very little was known about the proles. It was not necessary to know much.” Beyond the utility that calling everything racism had for both party establishments, it was good for that other sector, the news media.

I have become comfortably numb.’ and I do not feel anymore. My dreams feel like real reality, and day-to-day life feels like I am not even there. My body is just like an empty shale that I am stuck in now, that seems to be cracking. My mind is still sprinting around the room. What to say, what not to say, what to do, what not to do. Do I look okay, does this uniform look good today, my hair looks like crap? AHH! Is it time to go home yet! My internal voice does not shut up; it runs fragmented thoughts constantly. Yet my exterior voice does not stand up for me, yet all those words have to make sense. So why say anything at all. Sometimes I jump five feet in the air when the voices come over the intercoms, and it screeches in my ears like Miss. Manco’s nails on the blackboard. The message sounds like it has no rhythm or conclusion. Just more shit my brain has to process.

I'm going to get lecture-y for a second and add that I think the entire idea of tops and bottems, especially when coming from straight people who fetishize gay people, is an attempt to place some sort of hetero world over gay people. "Oh your're a bottom, so you're the woman." Gay guys who are strictly tops or bottoms tend to embrace this idea, too. Being a top only means you're "manly" or whatever because not being manly is considered bad by like adults and TV and stuff. Gay guys can buy into that crap just as easy as straight people. Whenever you see masc for masc on Grindr or whatever, what you're seeing is someone saying," I don't want people to think I'm like a woman, and I don;t want people to think that you're like a woman because people will think less of us." Sure people have preference but these ideas of masculine and feminine are kind of meaningless. I wear make-up. I think I'm pretty manly! We're all told this crap all the time, but you can reject it. Instead you're enforcing the idea that there is masculine and there is feminine, and that masculine is, for some unexplained reason, better. Finally, and this should probably be clear after the last bit, but you cant tell a top or a bottom or what a person's preferences are just by looking at him! Big, harry, muscled men love taking it up the ass. Trust me, I know. And slim, make-up wearing types, we love to f@$%. And in my case, get f@$%ed, too. Like I said, versatility is the best. So, in summary, it's wrong to assume all gay guys are having anal sex all the time. And it's ridiculous and offensive and stereotyping and hurtful to think that those who are penetrated are girly and those who penetrate are manly, something you've been doing. ... You're email is more like a mean joke you tell your friends, and I think that is because secretly you hate the way you're always being told what a girl should be like. And when you see a gay guy blurring the gender lines a little, like me, you're jealous of him. You want to put him in his place. You want to say, "he's not a man." Because if you can't blur those gender lines without being told you're gross or wrong, then you want to make sure that anyone who does cross those gender lines gets punished the way you would. But you shouldn't be punishing gay guys. You should be braking down the barriers that keep you from being who YOU want to be!

Research shows that on any given day, the average person thinks somewhere between 50,000 and 60,000 thoughts. The problem is that ninety-five percent of our thoughts are the same as the ones we thought the day before, and the day before that, and the day before that. It’s no wonder most people go through life, day after day, month after month, year after year, and never change the quality of their lives. Like old, worn baggage, we carry stress, fear, and worry from yesterday with us into today. When presented with opportunities, we quickly check our rearview mirror to assess our past capabilities. “No, I’ve never done anything like that before. I’ve never achieved at that level. In fact, I’ve failed, time and time again.” When presented with adversity, we go back to our trusty rearview mirror for guidance on how to respond. “Yep, just my luck. This crap always happens to me. I’m just going to give up; that’s what I’ve always done when things get too difficult.” If you are to move beyond your past and transcend your limitations, you must stop living out of your rearview mirror and start imagining a life of limitless possibilities. Accept the paradigm: my past does not equal my future. Talk to yourself in a way that inspires confidence that not only is anything possible, but that you are capable and committed to making it so. It’s not even necessary to believe it at first. In fact, you probably won’t believe it. You might find it uncomfortable and that you resist doing it. That’s okay.

When you get crapped on, grow a garden.

It’s just so typical. I’ve had writer’s block for days now− I literally couldn’t write a coherent sentence− then about a minute before Travis walks through the door it’s like the sea parted and Moses was on the other side looking relieved and waving at me. It’s pretty depressing when your mental metaphors are better than the crap you managed to put on paper that week. They say when you have writer’s block you should clear your mind and the ‘inspiration’ will just come. But my mind doesn’t go blank, and I’ve spent the last three hours staring at the wall and wondering if you want French toast in France, do you ask for French toast, or just toast? And now, because I’ve thought about it so much, I actually care what the answer is. Obviously not one of my better days.

You of the almighty zap, Zeusifer, loose and zany, let me sizzle on your throne for maybe forty-eight seconds; I've had enough of your poetry crap, just give me the last word of this poem.

Please, Madame Bowden. You’re right. I’ve never known or understood what it really means to love or be loved. I’m not going to blame my past, but we all have one and it follows us around like a prison, always keeping us from the person we truly wish to be. Martha is the bravest person I’ve ever met and she’s inspired what little bravery I have inside to listen to my heart for once. I don’t just love her for how she makes me feel, I love her because when she came into my life it was like the lights came on. Everything suddenly had meaning and I think, I hope, it was the same for her. We all have crap parts and good parts inside, but when you meet someone who makes you realise that it’s all okay, you think, what in God’s name did I do to deserve it? All of my life I’ve been searching for hidden treasure, fortunes outside of myself. But Martha, she found them in me. I’m not perfect, by any means, but I know I want to spend the rest of my life making her smile. So I’m damned if I will let her go without a fight.

Future strong individuals will not take on personal sacrifices, hardships and corporate crap that sidetrack them from their dreams and goals.

With my adventurous, can-do attitude, I walked into a world where crap is an everyday event.

There are so many negative people in this world, so replacing the crap with positive quotes steers our minds to success!

Our foibles, issues, lies, and idiosyncrasies are not the problem, I swear. Our hiding them is. It’s what leaves us not trusting each other and not developing ourselves to become trustworthy.

Ever notice how we are constantly talking to ourselves in our heads. We not only profess to know what others are thinking, but also what their responses will be––and even what they really meant by what they said. Apparently, we are all mind readers, without much proven psychic ability.

What if the longer we don’t deal with the memories we are haunted by, the more these memories, like long-ignored cavities, become not only painfully sensitive, but require root canal?

Look. The world is full of liars, and it’s time someone admitted it, shed a light on it, and lightened up about it.

Telling the whole truth and nothing but is the ultimate taking care of yourself. I can’t tell you how many clients of mine, once they clean up their lie list and resolve the big ones, cure themselves of their own depression.

Once you realize that your relationship is more important than your individual point of view. That’s where the true definition of “union” lives.

So although there is no phoenix here, there is, nonetheless, a fierce, stubborn, wildly insightful, arrogantly honest, crazily committed, and caring human, who will take the heat, the brunt of whatever silver spoon joke you may have, so I can help you have everything you want in your life. And I mean everything.

You can't tell me you haven't been lifting,” Bailey said. “I can tell. You may have a naturally good physique, but you're shredded. You've got serious size and you're hardened down.” This coming from a kid who'd never lifted a weight in his life, Ambrose thought, shaking his head and pushing another tray of cupcakes into the oven. Yeah, cupcakes. “So what's the point? I mean, you've got this amazing body–big, strong. You just going to keep it to yourself? You gotta share it with the world, man.” “If I didn't know better, I would think you were hitting on me,” Ambrose said. “Do you stand naked in front of the mirror and flex every night? I mean, really, at least go into the adult film industry. At least it won't go completely to waste.” “There you go again . . . talking about things you know nothing about,” Ambrose said. “Fern reads romance novels and you are suddenly Hugh Hefner. I don't think either of you has room to lecture me about anything.” “Fern's been lecturing?” Bailey sounded surprised and not at all offended that Ambrose had basically told him he didn't know jack crap because he was in a wheelchair. “Fern's been leaving inspirational quotes,” Ambrose said. “Ahhh. That sounds more like Fern. Like what? Just Believe? Dream big? Marry me?

Our mind has a mind of its own.

Being able to tell the truth about our own lack of personal integrity has integrity to it. The key to being able to deal with and lighten up about our own humanity is to get wholly honest about our dishonesty.

Heading back into your life to dust off and decipher old memories allows you to fully grasp how much power you have always held in your life. It helps you start to see that the way you have stored your memories and the role you played in them can be altered by you at any moment. Truly. At any moment in time. Hell, with one phone call.

Never underestimate a sensitive person they have accurate crap-detectors

Cut the crap! I don’t care how many hours you work, I care how much work you do in those hours.

You’re not your job. You’re not how much money you have in the bank. You’re not the car you drive. You’re not the contents of your wallet. You’re not your fucking khakis. You’re the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world.” Why

You and your friends played a big role in the aesthetic sensibility bred in the anarchist milieu in the early 2000s. While most anarchists and radicals were occupied with identity politics, accountability processes, justice, and ethical living and consumption, you and your friends started projects that had a more nihilist bent. Queer hedonism and negation, ‘doing-being totally out of control’. What inspired this turn, and what were you guys doing? The aesthetic sensibility we bred corresponded with the (re-)emergence of the hipster. While the hipster identity was about separating oneself out into a certain identity, to us it was more about being able to become anything. To welcome the power that comes with being malleable. To turn this weak metropolitan subject against itself. There were university occupations across the country, at the New School, in California, mini-riots across the Midwest and in the South. That also corresponded to the English translation of The Invisible Committee’s The Coming Insurrection, which was an important moment. Notably, that book was the same blue as Obama’s branding, and was a book instead of some zine somewhere. The new interest in insurrectionist aesthetics beyond the anarchist milieu provided a sort of opening. Part of the program behind Institute for Experimental Freedom, why I made all this aesthetic crap, why Politics is Not a Banana was a bright-ass pink book, was to take advantage of this opening.

Learn to value yourself enough to walk away from the crap in life and never settle for less than you deserve.

He shrugged. “Most of the time poor stays poor.” I’d been fixing a cabinet door, but I stopped and gave Storm my full attention. “If you think like that, that usually is what happens. You have to be able to see yourself successful to have a shot at finding success. And you need to work harder than someone who has things handed to them.” I felt Autumn’s eyes on me, so I looked over. “No offense.” She smiled. “None taken.” “You ever run track at school?” I asked Storm. “Yeah.” “You know why the runners don’t all start from the same line?” “Because the inside track is shorter.” “That’s right. They make it fair for everyone. But in real life, that crap doesn’t happen. Some people start from behind—and for reasons other than just being poor.” I paused, making sure he was following. He gave the smallest of nods. “So learn to run faster, and never forget there are people starting even farther back than you.

Haha, same crap in different fancy words. You know nothing, you know shit… You've never felt what I feel. You have no experience with the pain. The morning pressure on the stomach, blaming yourself every single day in your mind for a mistake you made ten fucking years ago while you have to smile at others. Or having a crush on your boyfriend's best friend while never doing anything out of morality, but still feeling guilty. Comparing yourself with successful people who are your age and feeling like a complete loser. Dying for a piece of donut but hesitating to eat it to keep your fucking body in shape, just to feel desirable for some stupid guys waiting to fuck you and say goodbye the next day. Meanwhile, losing your mind every second because you left the best boyfriend on the planet for some bullshit reason and don’t have the courage to call him back and tell him sorry.

Sometimes life is crap, and wrapping it up in an inspirational quote isn’t always going to make you feel better. On the contrary, sometimes it just makes everything feel worse.

It was in this line of thought, where true courage was mustered. A strength measured not by the size of his muscles or the amount one could lift, but the more impressive type, the type quantified in the amount of shit one can wade. Identified in the amount of crap hands dealt without bowing out altogether.

Everyone deals with crap in life. You're not supposed to sit around and let the crap deal with you because you deal with the crap.

Always stand up for yourself. Don’t take crap from anyone. No one in this world is more important than you are.

You can see the crap in life, or you can see the cool.

Can’t we just be allowed to feel a bit bleugh sometimes without this constant pressure? Max certainly isn’t happy right now. Cricket wasn’t feeling joyful when she cleared out Monty’s clothes. And bliss to me right now would be something to take away this awful PMS, and crawling back underneath my duvet. Sometimes life is crap, and wrapping it up in an inspirational quote isn’t always going to make you feel better. On the contrary, sometimes it just makes everything feel worse.

So, as per your ism people like I are going to hell? My friend up there nowhere, Mr. NOT, says its is all your imaginary pal's crap! And that up there in the head, you're not all that well. Now, what do you day to that? Anyway, be well.

Same crap, different day” is a lie... it’s a mindset... it’s a psychological prison that condemns you to a cycle of mediocrity.

Please respect my ism, though I have none. I too will stay away from your crap. Surely it's fair play. Both of us should be okay with this. Or are you not?

Women have a high threshold for pain and tough appetites. We bite our tongues, survive heartache, function on one last nerve, pull punches, eat crap, swallow our pride, beat ourselves up, shoulder responsibility while performing the back-breaking task of staying a step ahead while standing tall against everything so we don't fall for anything!

I spent most the day sleeping…or night…I feel a little better. I know that there should be no more walks outside. But really… I destroyed the tomb of shit. I dug the rat out and held its putrid body close to mine, and I cried, and as I cried I held tighter and tighter till the rat and me were one. And as I cried I whispered, ‘Don’t leave me Mommy! Don’t leave! Hold me please!’ And I almost thought I could hear her whispering back, from somewhere deep within my head. And as we held each other I forgot about all this crap I was buried in…I too was like this rat, we were both dead only I still awaited to be rescued from my grave of shit. But in this moment I was rescued by some long lost memory… A child’s joys. A child’s fears. Do we ever grow out of them?

Everyone knows fear is a liar, and worry is about the past and the future. People with anxiety get attached to the outcomes they perceive in their head, and those stories become the truth. The idea of “maybe it will, maybe it won’t, “scares the crap out of people with anxiety.

I'm learning daily the walk that comes with the talk, can bear a heavy burden. Being a leader, a mentor, a STRONG WOMAN, means you will be tested, challenged, embattled. You don't get to just say you are "tough" and "no-nonsense" and declare you are not taking crap. You better be ready to withstand the shots that come with it. People aren't just gonna get out of your way or respect you simply because you say you are "that chick". You better be ready to defend that crown and protect it too! In the end, when you know you've stood for something, you protected your dignity, you can share the lessons because you live by what you teach, and you inspired someone to be true to who they are and to take control of their destiny and walk into their strength and greatness., you will understand why it is so important for you to shoulder the struggles. Your purpose is greater than the discomfort of hard knocks. In the end, owning all that is empowering is worth the price of admission. Push through Queens. It's what we do. And we are built for it!

and thought to tart it up with a few Shakespeare quotations, having a vague recollection from my undergraduate days that the Bard was fond of joking about the great pox. I dusted off my battered copy of the Riverside Shakespeare and started leafing through it. Holy crap, I thought, there is a lot of stuff here on syphilis. My curiosity was piqued, and I did some more digging. Was there a connection between Shakespeare’s syphilitic obsession, contemporary gossip about his sexual misadventures, and the only medical fact known about him with certainty—that his handwriting became tremulous in late middle age? I wrote an article that appeared in Clinical Infectious Diseases, supposing it to be of scant interest beyond its immediate specialty audience. To my surprise, it generated a fair amount of Internet buzz, and inspired a segment on The Daily Show. I began to think that there might be interest in a book on the topic of writers and disease, written from a medical perspective.

I'm not a machine. I'm a person navigating this incredible life. There are days I wake up and seize every fresh new opportunity, days I walk through as a "same crap-different day" zombie, days I feel incredibly proud for navigating it right, and days I have so much fun getting it wrong.

Motivation is crap, it comes and go.