Doug Quotes

Conversation, like certain portions of the anatomy, always runs more smoothly when lubricated.

Your absence has not taught me to be alone, it merely has shown that when together we cast a single shadow on the wall.

I understand I can’t have you. But I want to know you’re in the world with me.

She thought about him all the time - not so much about Doug the individual, but rather about the nature of love, and the shock of learning how quickly it could disappear.

Nationalism does nothing but teach you to hate people you never met, and to take pride in accomplishments you had no part in.

Just keep her laughing,” Doug said. “When a woman laughs, her eyes are closed more. She won’t notice how ugly you are.

The stars up there at night are closer than you think.

Kill me, Doug. Just kill me now. Put me out of my misery.” “Christ, Kincaid, what did you say to him?” murmured Doug. “Well,” I told Doug, “I ripped on his fans and on how long it takes for his books to come out.” Doug stared at me, his expectations exceeded. “Then I said—not knowing who he was—that I’d be Seth Mortensen’s love slave in exchange for advanced copies of his books.

And you told me the biggest lie of all. You told me you loved me,” It was my turn to wince like he’d slapped me. “I don’t remember saying that” “You would if it had been true. You would feel something

All I know is, he found out you left and he locked himself in the shed and barricaded the door. No one's seen him since," Doug said. "When I bolted, Sean and Evan were trying to boost Caleb up onto the roof so he could look through the skylight and make sure the kid wasn't dead or something.

I'm dating Brandon," I told his bowed head. "Really?" he asked without looking up. "Yes!" "I'll print you a wallet card to whip out every time you need to say that, so you can save your voice." "Could you laminate it?

It means, Doug Swieteck, that in this class, you are not your brother.

I heard some interesting things about your performance up here." "I hear interesting things about your 'performance' all the time Doug, but you don't hear me making jokes about it.

Are your convictions so fragile that mine cannot stand in opposition to them? Is your God so illusory that the presence of my Devil reveals his insufficiency?

It’s important to keep up appearances with books,” I explained. “Image goes a long way in this business.” He dared a look over at me, still nervous but steadily recovering his composure. “I go more for content.” "Really?” I repositioned slightly so that we were touching again, the soft flannel of his shirt brushing my bare skin. “Because I could have sworn a moment ago you were pretty caught up in outside appearance.” His eyes shifted down again, but I could see a smile curving his lips. “Well. Some things are so striking, they can’t help but draw attention to themselves.” "And doesn’t that make you curious about what’s inside?” "Mostly it makes me want to get you some advanced copies.” Advanced copies? What did he—? "Seth? Seth, where—ah, there you are.” Paige turned down our aisle, Doug following behind. She brightened when she saw me, and I felt my stomach sink out of me and hit the floor with a thud as I put two and two together. No. No. It couldn’t be— "Ah, Georgina. I see you’ve already met Seth Mortensen.

I've been to Hell. You've only read about it.

You guys are just jealous because i'm a natural athlete and you can't cross the street without falling on your face." -(Bird) Doug

And by the way, showers. Look into them, Doug!

Sometimes it just feels really really wonderful to be alive.

EVERY DAY DO SOMETHING THAT WILL INCH YOU CLOSER TO A BETTER TOMORROW. —Doug Firebaugh

I'm learning quickly, once you quit one thing, it gets easier and easier just to leave situations rather than deal with shit.

Fred: "Is that brick wall your boyfriend?" Doug: "Only in my dreams." Fred: "Oh, you too? I'm Fred." Doug: "Doug. I should mention, in all fairness though that Christy's boyfriend is my best friend. He's the brick wall you should be worried about.

What begins at the water shall end there, and what ends there shall once more begin.

Can I see some ID?" "WE DON'T HAVE ID," said Jay, loudly. "'CAUSE WE'RE CANADIAN. WE DON'T USE ID...THERE. AND THAT'S WHY WE LOOK SO YOUNG. 'CAUSE WE'RE CANADIAN." Doug stiffened. Jay sounded crazy. Doug tried looking extra sane to even things out.

Children are like poems. They're beautiful -- to their creators -- but to others they're just silly and fucking annoying.

I don’t think my memory of that night is ever coming back.” “Do you want me to hit you on the head with a coconut? It works on Gilligan’s Island.

Life is like a movie, if you've sat through more than half of it and it’s sucked every second so far, it probably isn't going to get great right at the end and make it all worthwhile. None should blame you for walking out early.

There’s a drive in a lost soul—in one that is searching for acceptance, companionship, belonging, whatever you want to call it. The slightest coincidence ignites a spark that one hopes will lead to something meaningful.

Coincidences give you opportunities to look more deeply into your existence.

Treat everyone you meet as if they were you.

Seven-thirty. Time. Time is a Mobius strip. Coding. Working. Training. An endless ribbon of activity; iterations, pushing, perfecting. Doug heads for his car, not sure why he is leaving, or, where he is going.

-It's extremely cool how the words can stay the same but their meaning can change. -Because the reader changes. -EXACTLY

I got a statistic for you right now. Grab your pencil, Doug. There are five billion trees in the world. I looked it up. Under every tree is a shadow, right? So, then, what makes night? I'll tell you: shadows crawling out from under five billion trees! Think of it! Shadows running around in the air, muddying the waters you might say. If only we could figure a way to keep those darn five billion shadows under those trees, we could stay up half the night, Doug, because there'd be no night!

Pay attention to the intricate patterns of your existence that you take for granted.

Please forgive me, Mother. I apologize for saying 'fuck.'" Then he straightened and addressed Doug. "Which, by the way, was repeated sixty-seven times in this particular film. It has a running length of ninety-four minutes. So last night while watching it, she heard fuck, or a derivative thereof, spoken every one and a half minutes, give or take a few seconds. But if my saying fuck offended her, then I'm fucking sorry.

Do you always travel with such cumbersome books?" "I don't trust anyone who wouldn't.

Tom," said Douglas, "just promise me one thing, okay?" "It's a promise. What?" "You may be my brother and maybe I hate you sometimes, but stick around, all right?" "You mean you'll let me follow you and the older guys when you go on hikes?" "Well . . . sure . . . even that. What I mean is, don't go away, huh? Don't let any cars run over you or fall of a cliff." "I should say not! Whatta you think I am, anyway?" "'Cause if worst comes to worst, and both of us are real old--say forty or forty-five some day-- we can own a gold mine out West and sit there smoking corn silk and growing bears." "Growing beards! Boy!" "Like I say, you stick around and don't let nothing happen." "You can depend on me," said Tom. "It's not you I worry about," said Douglas. "It's the way God runs the world." Tom thought about this for a moment. "He's all right, Doug," said Tom. "He tries.

I kept a picture of me kissing my dad’s corpse on the forehead in my wallet for years. I’d break it out any time someone showed me a baby picture, just so they would know how it ends.

My brother is a very bad policeman. So . . . you’re coming to school, right?” Doug “Nnnnnnno.” Zoey “Come so you can be around people,” Doug coaxed. “I don’t think you should be alone today.” “I think I definitely should.” Zoey “Come so I won’t worry about you.” Doug ;]

It's the way God runs the world." Tom thought about this for a moment. "He's all right, Doug," said Tom. "He tries.

It was stolen. As most beautiful things eventually are.

Life is like animal porn, it's not for everyone.

Life would be a great deal easier if dead things had the decency to remain dead.

Observation #3: They gossip. Can you believe it? I overheard Finn and Doug in the backyard talking about some girl named Dawn who blew off some guy named Simon for some other guy named Rick for like twenty minutes! They sounded like those old mole-hair ladies at Sal's Milshakes.

For disappearing acts, it's hard to beat what happens to the eight hours supposedly left after eight of sleep and eight of work.

If you start to smell some of the shit, you start smelling all of the shit

t may not be the life you imagined, but it’s your life. You came here for a reason. Is it time for you to go and begin again?

Very young children often accept the paranormal as “normal” until adults squeeze it out them.

- I can't make choices like that without knowing who I am. Without knowing all the implications. - You can't ever know in advance. Big decisions require faith.

Just be prepared," she said. "When you do come back to live with me, you are SO GROUNDED for calling me the chicken that crossed the road.

One more thing," Megan said, stopping Doug in his tracks. His shoulders slumped and he turned around. "What? You want my kidney?" "I want in on the next ultimate Frisbee game," Megan said. Doug grinned. "You're playing skins." Megan grinned back. "We'll see about that.

Wisdom is the reward you get for a lifetime of listening when you’d have preferred to talk.

Questions from earlier circle like buzzards. Am I running away or moving forward?

Finally Doug broke the stalemate and looked at Megan. "Thanks a lot," he said sarcastically. Then he yanked off his plastic gloves, tossed them at her feet, and stormed away. Finn let out a sigh as he gazed after his brother. "You know, my parents really should have stopped with me.

Everything that is going to kill you is extremely appetizing.

Do you know the rest?"Doug asked me expectantly. "What?The Achilles was a dysfuctional psychopath? Yeah I know that." "Well, yeah, everyone knows that. I mean the really cool part. About Thetis and Peleus." I shook my head, and he continued, professor-like, "Thetis was a sea mymph, and Peleus was a mortal who loved her. Only, when he went to woo her, she was a real bitch about it." "How so?" "She was a shape-shifter." I nearly dropped the book. "What?" Doug nodded. "He approached her, and she turned into all sorts of shit to scare him off - wild animals, forces of natures, monsters, whatever." "What... what'd he do?" "He held on. Grabbed her and wouldn't let go through all of those terrible transformations. No matter what she turned into, he just held on.

A child’s imaginary playmate just might actually be there.

Dreams link us to those who have already left this life.

For one moment, it is more important to take in the spectacular than to worry about the pressing business of staying alive.

You don’t have to stay trapped in your thoughts just because you think them.

He is a man without a past sailing in a strange sea in a world where the stars have come loose in the firmament.

You're about as subtle as a fucking train wreck. On a boat.

Stay present for the “now” of your life. It’s your “point of power.

Corporations are like protean bacteria; you hit them with accountability and they mutate and change their names.

His fingers, frozen in midfidget on his good knee, said PEOPLE AREN'T SUPPOSED TO ASK ME THAT. Either that or I HAVE JUST BEEN SHOT THROUGH THE PAPER SCREEN. He wasn't bleeding.

You can't get to happily ever after without turning the page

What begins at the water shall end there, and what ends there shall once more begin. Words are a gift to the dead and a warning to the living.

Think about it. These guys have far more reasons to pull a prank on Doug than they do me. I kind of wished we had changed clothes, though.' 'There wasn't time,' Katie said. 'Your true love is in desperate need of your assistance. How can you think of changing into the appropriate attire for a rescue?

Look, we all have something to bring to this discussion. But I think from now on the thing you should bring is silence. - Rimmer

Being near Tom and Doug at night kept me from having to say to myself I am not afraid whenever I heard a branch snap in the dark or the wind shook so fiercely it seemed something bad was about to happen. But I wasn't out here to keep myself from having to say I am not afraid. I'd come, I'd realized, to stare that fear down, to stare everything down, really -- all that I'd done to myself and all that had been done to me. I couldn't do that while tagging along with someone else.

So are you comin' back with me or what?" Megan lifted her head and sighed. "I have a few conditions." "Shoulda known," Doug said, rolling his eyes. "First of all, I did not sign up for a truck stop bathroom," Megan said. "You guys need to start cleaning up after yourselves in there. No more blood, no more hair, no more stains that I don't even want to identify." "All right, all right," Doug said. "That it?" "Hardly," Megan said. "I want a hands-off rule on all my stuff. Including my bike." "Okay..." "And I want everyone to stop calling me Megan C Cups behind my back." Doug's jaw went slack as he flushed. "How did you know about that?" Megan raised her eyebrows. "All right, fine.

I Didn't Ask to Be a Senior Citizen (I Was Drafted)

Your bike is discovery; your bike is freedom. It doesn't matter where you are, when you're on the saddle, you're taken away.

Doug returned five minutes later and shook his head. "Sorry kid. She's single, but she doesn't think you're her type. She's into the Goth and vampire scene. You're too mainstream for her." I was sipping a glass of water and nearly choked on it. "That," said Peter, as soon as Doug was gone, "is what we call irony." "How is that possible?" exclaimed Cody. "I am a vampire. I should be exactly what she wants." "Yeah, but you don't look like one," I said. If Gabrielle had been a Trekkie, he might have had a shot tonight.

-I hate that. I hate that people can't just say what they mean. -You don't. Not always. -I never say anything I don't mean. I just avoid saying some things that I do.

All that stuff, tradition and heritage. It's dead people's baggage. Quit carrying it.

The whole concept of 'wild' was decidedly European, one not shared by the original inhabitants of this continent. What we called 'wilderness' was to the Indian a homeland, 'abiding loveliness' in Salish or Piegan. The land was not something to be feared or conquered, and 'wildlife' were neither wild nor alien; they were relatives.

They all occupied the same space but did not occupy it together. Imagine a thousand leaves of tracing paper, each with one person lightly pencilled on it, all stacked atop a scene of a frozen city block. A thousand discreet and solitary realities that appear to be occurring in the same location.

Coincidences link us to the unknown and weave us into it.

Compassion is the key to the ultimate survival of our species.

What would you say to yourself if you could actually meet a younger you?

What's it like?" "Death? It's like being on holiday with a group of Germans.

Find what you love. Then fight like hell when people try to take it away from you.

Stop worrying about your credits and consider enjoying your day. You die at the end.

Any dog can bed down a lot of females. But only a real man can love one woman for a lifetime.

Once I had asked, ‘But are you a Democrat or a Republican?” and Jonathan said, “I’m socially progressive but fiscally conservative,” and Doug Miles, a football player who also came to Sunday breakfast but only ever read the sports section and ignored everyone, lifted his head and said, “Is that like being bisexual?” Which I actually thought was funny, even though I was pretty sure Doug was a jerk.

The dangerous temptation of wildlife films is that they can lull us into thinking we can get by without the original models -- that we might not need animals in the flesh.

We co-create our reality with others in unseen ways.

I don't even understand the connection with 'died for your sins'. He died for your sin, well, how does one affect the other? 'I hit myself in the foot with a shovel for your mortgage'...

HOO JAMES SHIN HOO. Born: James Hoo in Chicago. Age: 50. Added Shin to his name when he went into the restaurant business because it sounded more Chinese. First wife died of cancer five years ago. Married again last year. Has one son: Douglas. SUN LIN HOO. Age: 28. Born in China. Immigrated from Hong Kong two years ago. Gossip: James Hoo married her for her 100-year-old sauce. DOUGLAS HOO (called Doug). Age: 18. High-school track star. Is competing in Saturday’s track meet against college milers. Westing connection: Hoo sued Sara Westing over the invention of the disposable paper diaper. Case never came to court (Westing disappeared). Settled with the company last year for $25,000. Thinks he was cheated. Latest invention: paper innersoles.

The most difficult part ot traditional taekwondo is not learning the first kick or punch. It is not struggling to remember the motions of a poomsae or becoming aquainted with Korean culture. Rather, it is taking the first step across the threshold of the dojang door. This is where roads diverge, where choices are made that will resonate throughout a lifetime.

I think something must happen to you when you get into eight grade. Like the Doug Swieteck's Brother Gene switches on and you become a jerk. Which may have been Hamlet, Prince of Denmark's problem, who, besides having a name that makes him sound like a breakfast special at Sunnyside Morning Restaurant--something between a ham slice and a three-egg omelet--didn't have the smarts to figure out that when someone takes the trouble to come back from beyond the grave to tell you that he's been murdered, it's probably behooveful to pay attention--which is the adjectival form.

See, I thought gay sex would be all different and weird, but it was just like having sex with a woman, except way hotter. I guess you can't believe stuff you see on the Internet, because you know, the hot gay sex I had last night was totally awesome, and nobody like, put their entire hand in my butt." Doug stood and walked over to Stephen, who was shoving a bagel into a Ziploc bag. "Anyway, hold on, here he is," Doug said into the phone, and then held it out towards him. "It's your mom.

You would never know by looking at them, but Hope’s lips are the softest, juiciest, most kissable lips ever. She thinks there’s nothing special, just like she thinks that most of her outstanding features are standard operating equipment, but someday, Doug will tell her—hers are the lips men kill for. Hope’s smell and her body are familiar and unfamiliar at once—like a whisper or a dream. Her back is more muscular, her arms thinner than he remembers. None of it matters. He loved her then and he loves her now.

They both fought to catch their breath, though Megan's oxygen deprivation had nothing to do with the game. "You okay?" Finn asked. "Yeah, you?" she replied. Every inch of her body was throbbing to touch him again. "Yeah," he replied with a huge grin. He pushed himself around and got on all fours in front of her, pausing there with his face inches from hers. "I'm glad you stayed," he whispered, his breath warm on her face. Megan somehow managed to reply. "Me too." Then Finn pushed himself up and headed back toward the centre of the yard. For a moment, Megan couldn't move. Then Doug walked over and offered his arm. Megan grasped it thankfully and he yanked up to her shaky legs. "Who's all in a twist now?" he asked with a smirk. Megan laughed and shoved him from behind as they headed back to the line.

In the end, Doug Wilson, John Piper, Mark Driscoll, James Dobson, Doug Phillips, and John Eldredge all preached a mutually reinforcing vision of Christian masculinity—of patriarchy and submission, sex and power. It was a vision that promised protection for women but left women without defense, one that worshiped power and turned a blind eye to justice, and one that transformed the Jesus of the Gospels into an image of their own making. Though rooted in different traditions and couched in different styles, their messages blended together to become the dominant chord in the cacophony of evangelical popular culture. And they had been right all along. The militant Christian masculinity they practiced and preached did indelibly shape both family and nation.

So, look, you can't leave," Doug said, sitting straight up and turning towards her. "if you do, Miller's gonna revert and Caleb and Ian are gonna ride roughshod and Sean'll go back to being ghost brother and Finn..." Megan's heart slipped. "Finn what?" "Finn will be destroyed," Doug said, looking her in the eye. "You got that dude all up in a twist, you know that, right?" "What does that even mean?" Megan asked. "All's I know is, he found out you left and he locked himself in the shed and barricaded the door. No one's seen him since," Doug said. "When I bolted, Sean and Evan were trying to boost Caleb up onto the roof so he could look through the skylight and make sure the kid wasn't dead or something." Megan swallowed hard. "Wow.

The lesson of every extinction, says the Smithsonian’s Doug Erwin, is that we can’t predict what the world will be 5 million years later by looking at the survivors. "There will be plenty of surprises. Let’s face it: who would’ve predicted the existence of turtles? Who would ever have imagined that an organism would essentially turn itself inside out, pulling its shoulder girdle inside its ribs to form a carapace? If turtles didn’t exist, no vertebrate biologist would’ve suggested that anything would do that: he’d have been laughed out of town. The only real prediction you can make is that life will go on. And that it will be interesting.

The flow. Yeah. Knowing you could step on the court and make it happen. You practiced, sure. But then, when you walked out there, you could just go. You could flow, that was it: you created and you didn't totally know how. You just knew you could, so you did. It wasn't thinking and it wasn't imitating somebody else's moves, though you always looked carefully when you watched good players play. But when you played... it was something you couldn't explain. Neal used to know. It didn't come from thinking about it.

You can never really, truly, understand discrimination unless you've been fuckin' ugly. Ugly people face as much, or more, discrimination than any fuckin' minority group, and they have none of the...recourse. ... You don't have any group that's going to come together and fight for your rights...'cause there's no unity among the ugly. ... And ugly isn't even a minority! We're the fuckin' majority, and we still take the fuckin' backseat! ... Any minority would rather be called the worst racial slur according to their group than pointed out as unattractive: someone calls you a nigger, a lot of people fuckin' bunch up around you and go 'what the fuck you say to him?!'; someone calls you dog-dick-fuckin'-ugly, you wear that all by yourself.