Duct Tapes Quotes

Yes, of course duct tape works in a near-vacuum. Duct tape works anywhere. Duct tape is magic and should be worshiped.

Also, I have duct tape. Ordinary duct tape, like you buy at a hardware store. Turns out even NASA can’t improve on duct tape.

If only he would keep his mouth shut, he'd be perfect. A piece of duct tape would do the trick. I had some in my desk that I'd occasionally pull out and fondle, hoping someday I could put it to good use.

I seriously needed an extra-strength magic pillow, because my ba refused to stay put. [And no, Sadie, I don't think wrapping my head in duct tape would've worked either.]

When I want your opinion, I'll remove the duct tape.--T-SHIRT

One down," Beckendorf said. "About five thousand to go." He tossed me a jar of thick green liquid—Greek fire, one of the most dangerous magical substances in the world. Then he threw me another essential tool of demigod heroes—duct tape

Duct tape works anywhere. Duct tape is magic and should be worshipped.

He slung off his backpack. He'd managed to grab a lot of supplies at the Napa Bargain Mart: a portable GPS, duct tape, lighter, superglue, water bottle, camping roll, a Comfy Panda Pillow Pet (as seen on TV), and a Swiss army knife—pretty much every tool a modern demigod could want.

He backed away from me, clutching the phone to his chest. “What?” “Gimme the phone,” I commanded, holding out my hand. His head dropped solemnly. “I am on a very important call.” “Yes, about me,” I said, reaching for it. “Now give it.” He shrank away and eyed the room anxiously. “Damn, I knew I should have kept a spare roll of duct tape somewhere.

Why would we ever want to go back when your world is so accommodating with your telephones and your guns and what's that sticky stuff called ...duct tape.

He took a long draw then asked, “What’d I do?” “You knew about the guy threatening my dad?” He paused, shifted in his chair, so freaking busted, it wasn’t funny. “They told you?” “Why, no, Swopes, they didn’t. Instead, they waited until the guy knocked the fuck out of my dad and readied him for spaceflight with duct tape then tried to kill me with a butcher’s knife.

She held out her right hand, palm up. "Duct tape." She did the same with her other hand. "M&M's. If I can't fix whatever's wrong with those two things, I'm going home and getting back into bed.

Stop smiling!” she ordered. “I can see you, Carter. Oh…and, uh, hullo, Walt.” The pot monster made squeaky grinding noises as it stood up straight. One clunky arm rose and tried to fix Sadie’s nonexistent hair. Leave it to Sadie to be self-conscious around boys, even when she’s made out of pots and duct tape.

Superglue after duct tape a girl's best friend.

But just now, he'd gotten on his knees and proposed marriage, like in a television commercial for a diamond ring. Except of course they had the roll of duct tape instead, which, when you came to think about it, was a far more practical item. Such a bad mistake it would be, to embark on marriage and adult life without a nice supply of duct tape.

What's that sticky stuff called? Basta: Duct tape. Yes, duct tape. I love duct tape.

Such a bad mistake it would be, to embark on marriage and adult life without a nice supply of duct tape.

Okay.” Nate took a deep breath. “Now that we’re all caught up on the new no-no’s of the house, what do you say we find a tarp and some duct tape and MacGyver ourselves a new window in the living room? Just, you know, to keep out the wind…and the leaves…and any sharp-toothed woodland creatures prone to attacking people in their sleep.” Tristan raised a brow. “What?” Nate shrugged. “Death by dragon? Awesome. Death by rabid forest squirrel? Not cool, man. Not cool.

Just Leo’s luck. A super-hot immortal girl was waiting for him on Ogygia, but he couldn’t figure out how to wire a stupid chunk of rock into the three-thousand-year-old navigation device. Some problems even duct tape couldn’t solve.

Someone knocked on the door. “Come in!” Barabas called. The door swung open and Derek stuck his head in. “Hey, do you have any duct tape?” He saw me, stepped back, and closed the door without a word. Well. “Coward,” Barabas said, loud enough for Derek to hear.

Yeah sure,why not?"i said,making a mental note to get a good look at his wings. For all I knew, they were remote-controlled and duct taped to his back.” -max

Lone women shouldn't stop in the middle of nowhere for giant unkempt strangers with duct tape on their faces.

Humanity's gift to the universe. Duct Tape.

My granddad used to always say, ‘Even duct tape can’t fix stupid,’” I said, putting my straw in my mouth. “Hmm. No. But it can muffle the sound.

May the gods defend me from heroes with duct tape. And heroes always seem to have duct tape.

How, he wondered, did humanity ever get along without duct tape?

Some problems even duct tape couldn't solve.

Duct tape is man’s answer to electrons and protons. It’s how we keep matter together.

Yeah, they still make duct tape. And it still holds the universe together.

Billings pulled a roll from a compartment in his cargo pants leg. We gawked at him in disbelief. He shrugged. "What? You never know when you're going to need duct tape.

Duct tape is like the force. It has a light side, and it holds the world together.

He hands me his shopping list and I lead him through the store in search of the items. Duct tape? Plastic wrap? A hacksaw? Who is this guy, Dexter?

Turns out even NASA can’t improve on duct tape.

I... Furudo Erika... have DUCT TAPE!!

And a little duct tape on the gunshot wounds will stop the bleeding.” “You’re not a headlight on an old Chevy,” Berg told her.

I made plans out of hope, expectation, desire, and duct tape, and I broke those plans with my bare hands.

I’d chain him in my basement and never let him go. Hmm. That was supposed to sound romantic, but even in my head that leaned a few rolls of duct tape too close to the creeper side.

So I Lyfted to Home Depot, where I bought random stuff, rope and duct tape, plastic bags, cable ties, and plastic gloves. The girl at the register winked and said she’s also a big fan of Fifty Shades and this is what has become of our society. Fucking and killing are the same damn thing. Now

Mort drove one of those little hybrid cars that, when not running on gasoline, was fueled by idealism. It was made out of crepe paper and duct tape and boasted a computer system that looked like it could have run the NYSE and NORAD, with enough attention left over to play tic-tac-toe. Or possibly Global Thermonuclear War.

Anal is pretty much the sexual duct tape of the world- it fixes everything. I should put that on a t-shirt.

Little girl, you could wrap my cock in duct tape, and I'll still make you see God.

You are an idiot," Tom informed him. Prophet stared at the duct tape around his wrists. "I have no argument against that at the moment.

Then he threw me another essential tool of demigod heroes—duct tape.

Philosophers get attention only when they appear to be doing something sinister--corrupting the youth, undermining the foundations of civilization, sneering at all we hold dear. The rest of the time everybody assumes that they are hard at work somewhere down in the sub-basement, keeping those foundations in good repair. Nobody much cares what brand of intellectual duct tape is being used.

I unraveled Martinez’s bed and took the string outside, then taped it to the trailer hull along the path I planned to cut. Yes, of course duct tape works in a near-vacuum. Duct tape works anywhere. Duct tape is magic and should be worshiped.

I had a dream about you. We were traveling in your car. You were driving, and I was securely fastened by ropes and duct tape in the trunk. I tried telling you my family has no money, but you had to find out the hard way.


I didn't blame him. God, I wouldn't have blamed Bones if he'd duct-taped a vibrator to me and just took care of the whole sordid nightmare that way

The angel on my shoulder was…well, currently duct-taped and gagged in the devil’s trunk.

Life didn’t have to fit into a four-sided box that was neat and tidy. It was okay if the box had three sides or the fourth one was hanging on with duct tape. It was okay if the corners were dented and if there was a big red FRAGILE sticker on top. It was all okay.

Duct tape. Perfect weapon; so many uses.

And-he was ashamed to admit--he had been known to carry off the occasional roll of duct tape. That stuff could be used for everything.

Duct tape can't fix stupid," Bas growled. "Maybe not," Red replied, "but it can hold it down and muffled the screams.

Greatest stuff in the world. Superman’s duct tape.

You can't make a woman love you. Not even with duct tape.

I've found duct tape more effective than advice, myself.

It was about everything. About life and death, and white and black and gray. It was about having to be tough when you weren’t used to it. About having to grow when you’d thought you were done growing. In the back of my head, I knew what I’d said didn’t make any damn sense. But how could I explain? How could I begin to tell him that I had lost a part of myself with my brother’s death, and I was trying so hard to keep what I had left together with duct tape and paper clips?

Duct tape." She did the same with her other hand. "M&M's. If I can't fix whatever's wrong with those two things, I'm going home and getting back into bed.

If you had duct tape, you were prepared for anything.

Wine is to women as duct tape is to men, it fixes EVERYTHING!

Civilization is held together by duct tape and spit, and I'm worried about the duct tape.

Okay." Nate took a deep breath. "Now that we're all caught up on the new no-no's of the house, what do you say we find a tarp and some duct tape and MacGyver ourselves a new window in the living room? Just, you know, to keep out the wind ... and the leaves ... and any sharp-toothed woodland creatures prone to attacking people in their sleep." Tristan raised a brow. "What?" Nate shrugged. "Death by dragon? Awesome. Death by rabid forest squirrel? Not cool, man. Not cool." "You're immortal, Nate," Gabriel said. "So? That doesn't mean I want rabies." Nate shook his head. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have medieval aliens to defeat.

On the other hand, looking careless could just be privileged give-a-shit Ivy League attitude, like wearing duct tape on loafers and jeans with holes in them, knowing all along that they were headed straight to Wall Street or Washington and three-piece suits.

We were all the same, it seemed to me, all of us dented and scratched and damaged, held together with pins and duct tape, the walking wounded making one last stand in the dark before giving in to the inevitable".

Like when people (my parents) ask what I'm going to study in college and I say, "English." They say, "Oh. So you want to be a teacher?" And I want to cover my eyes and mouth with duct tape and pretend to be dead and done with it. No, you simpletons. I want to travel and write and live in a big city, and do cool things with my brain. This is not to disparage the fine and noble art of educating in any way. My English teachers have made me who I am today and I love them with a passion that surprises me. I just don't want to be one.

If you trust me at all, if you want to listen to me at all..but you certainly don’t have to…speaking from experience, I can tell you that things change. You can believe me, you don’t have to. They probably won’t change unless you make them. The best way to change something that’s around you, something you don’t like, is to change yourself. And I don’t think you want other people changing you, I think the only person that can change you is yourself. So if you ain’t happy, if you’re reading magazines about generation x-ers and thinking ‘yeah, I’m one of them’, well fuck that. Don’t let anyone tell you who you are. No, no. No one can tell me who I am. I can tell you who I am, but that would be a long story. I could tell you who I am and it wouldn’t fit in a Rolling Stone. It wouldn’t fit in a video…it’s my life, it’s your life. You’re the only one who knows who you are. I hope you know who you are, figure it out. Cause you are somebody. And I’m probably stating the obvious, but I just thought I’d do it anyway. So if you feel like you’ve got a piece of duct tape on your mouth, if you feel like you can’t speak, take it off, speak up, speak your mind, shout it out,let em hear, shout it out.

I knew Denver was sincere when he told me that he would not want to trade places with me for even one day. His convictions became clear to me when I laid my key ring on the table between us at one of our earlier meetings for coffee. Denver smiled a bit and sidled up to a cautious question. 'I know it ain't none of my business, but does you own somethin' that each one of those keys fits?' I glanced at the keys; there were about ten of them. 'I suppose,' I replied, not really ever having thought about it. 'Are you sure you own them, or does they own you?' That wisdom stuck to my brain like duct tape. The more I thought about it, the more I became convinced we'd enjoy life a whole lot more if we owned a whole lot less.

I want to open a broken marriage repair shop. I’m not a counselor or psychologist, but I am a fan of the magical bonding that occurs between two people when duct tape binds them together for a long period of time in a dark basement. Refer a friend, and you get a two for one abuse session.

What about Ding-Dong?" "Detective Inspector Bell couldn't find his arse with both hands if you duct-taped them to it. Come on.

Brotha needed to buy a vowel and rent a verb, then get a roll of duct tape slapped on that broken English.

Part of me wanted to see him. But I shoved that part back, bound it with duct tape, and shoved it in a closet. A bit serial-killery of me, but effective.

What was there to worry about? It's not like I was an active aquaphobic carrying nine years of emotional baggage onto a boat held together by duct tape.

Duct tape is magic and should be worshiped.

One thing I have in abundance here are bags. They’re not much different from kitchen trash bags, though I’m sure they cost $50,000 because of NASA… Also, I have duct tape. Ordinary duct tape, like you buy at a hardware store. Turns out even NASA can’t improve on duct tape.

There are many ways to get to know someone, and my favorite is seeing them naked in Happy Baby pose. I also feel it is important to have sex soon after meeting someone in order to find out if you have sexual chemistry together. Otherwise, you could wait two to three months after you start dating someone only to discover that your new boyfriend is bad in bed, or even worse, is into anal beads and duct tape.

New Rule: From now on, duct tape must be called what it really is--murder tape. A search of the suspected Craigslist Killer's home yielded a firearm, restraints, and duct tape, or, as we call that here in Hollywood, Phil Spector's earthquake kit.

Wilbur looked at the list glumly. "Are you sure you need all this stuff?" "Yep." "The ax?" "The ax is critical." "The chalk?" "The chalk is super-critical." "The bungee cords?" "Bungee cords are the single most useful object in the universe, Wilbur. People may say it’s duct tape, but it’s actually bungee cords. All great heroes know this.

3. The séance was for real and everyone knows it. But they won’t discuss it because A. they don’t trust me, B. they don’t like me, or C. they’re playing it down because they’re plotting to get me alone after school, duct tape my mouth, and throw me over the fence so Annaliese can rip out my throat with her ghostly teeth. Okay. Now that’s paranoid.

Tell Me Whom You Love and I'll Tell You Who You Are

Now I'm a suitcase Duct-taped to a satyr's back. Worst. Morning. Ever.

What if Sam's heart got broken again? As with most kids who are fourteen, it has been spackled and duct-taped and caulked back together many times as it is. [p. 258]

Also, I need some duct tape, a shovel, and Brandon's phone number...

As it turns out, being able to see what’s coming doesn’t make it any less painful when it arrives. In fact, knowing probably just upped my anticipatory anxiety and my intolerance for vulnerability. The eggshells weren’t on the ground; they were duct-taped to the soles of my shoes.

I always tell Noah to behave or I’ll sell him on eBay. You’ve got to have some way to keep these little buggers in line or they’ll just walk all over you. It’s a nightmare. Honestly. All the livelong day. Daddy, I want this. Daddy, I want that. Daddy, daddy, daddy! Gimme gimme gimme! I’m like, honest to almighty Christ and sweet and sunny jumped-up Jesus, if you don’t shut up, it’s back to the basement and the duct tape and the handcuffs again and I’m not joking. Now get me a beer, you frikkin’ munchkin!

Detective Inspector Carver took a picture from the breast pocket of his suit. He handed it to me. ‘This is what you did, Michael. Take a good look. See if it jogs your memory.’ I gawped at the mutilated corpse of a naked young girl lying on a blood-soaked double bed. Her hands were bound to the brass headboard with duct tape. Blood covered her upper body, and her long blonde hair was streaked a murderous shade of red. One eye stared at the ceiling as if searching for salvation, the other, a bloody unrecognisable pulp, bore no relation to its sightless counterpart. ‘Carla Marie Coombs. Twenty-one years of age. Do you recognise her, Michael?

It’ll work all right for a while, until you lose something. I mean your identity is glued together with scraps of meaningless pop culture, and your supposed friends only like you when you’re funny at parties, and you’re so fucking broken inside you’re a fucking Jell-O mold held together with duct tape. One leak and it’s all coming out.

You haven't lived until you duct-taped a diaper on a dog.

The one with wormies swelling his belly?" Finn looked disgusted. "It's not so swollen anymore." "Right. So it's Maggot Cat pus on my duct tape. As soon as Thomas comes out of the restroom I'm going to wash this in hand sanitizer. Then throw up." Teagan reached for the duct tape, but he moved it away. "Don't be touching it, girl. It's disgusting. I'll deal with it.

I still had the breather mask and portable oxygen supply. But now I added a pair of goggles from the duffel. They’d be important for what came next. I duct taped both the mask and goggles to my face—I needed an airtight seal this time. So now I was a mud-covered freak with random shit taped to my face. I probably looked like something out of a horror movie. Oh well. I was about to be horrible.

Maybe if we wrap some of those around you, then even if the blanket slips, you won’t burn. We can duct-tape it together. As long as you don’t mind looking ridiculous.” The vampire smiled a closemouthed smile.

So we climb," Meg announced. "Hello?" I said miserably. "Paralysed former god here." Grover grimaced at Meg. "Duct tape?" "Duct tape," she agreed. May the gods defend me from heroes with duct tape. And heroes always seem to have duct tape. Meg produced a roll from a pouch on her gardening belt. She propped me into a sitting position, back-to-back with Grover, then proceeded to loop tape under our armpits, binding me to the satyr as if I were a hiking pack. With Meg's help, Grover staggered to his feet, jostling me around so I got random views of the walls, the floor, Meg's face and my own paralysed legs manspreading beneath me.

Weddings are friendship deal breakers if the friendship is weak. There are too many favors, too many tasks, too much required devotion and Aqua Net for imposters like me. I tried to make eye contact with Francine, to give her a knowing good-bye smile like a ghost of a loved one in a movie. It was no usue, I decided to cut my final pink wire. There would be no more yearly "happy birthdays" and certainly no more bonding with the girl in the duct tape dress. That ship had sailed.

The seminar was long and boring and Quinn was seriously cranky. He did not want to go through another two days of sitting through watching some stick-up-his-ass talk about shit he already knew. Margot paid attention for the first half of it, but she started to get bored, also. And when Margot gets bored, she fidgets. Quinn almost strangled her today. He thought about many creative ways to end her fidgeting, many of them involved duct tape. Duct tape was a man’s best friend after all...no wait, that was dogs.

If you have never driven an auto rikshaw through a rip in the fabric of space-time created by two giant, hippopotamus-sized birds, I strongly recommend wearing a bike helmet when you do so. And if your rikshaw doesn't have a seat belt, you should probably consider duct-taping yourself to the seat. Because I have never been on such a bumpy, upside-down, mentally and emotionally disturbing ride in my life. And I've been on some doozies.

He leans over the side and presses his lips against mine, and I kiss him back without hesitation. His tongue enters my mouth while his hand holds me in place. It’s tender and would seem loving if I wasn’t duct-taped in a bathtub while the water continues to rise.

She came at him sideways, away from his legs, reaching down to pull the duct tape away. He didn't even notice the pain, spitting out the rag someone had put in his mouth earlier. She turned, and handed him a bottle of water. "You're probably thirsty. The drug I gave you tends to make your mouth dry." "No, I think that was caused by the sock someone stuffed in there," he said. "Your work?

Steaming, Sebastian flies up out of his seat and makes a dramatic exit out the front door. "Is he always so crazy?" I asked. "Yeah. But he's a hot fuck. You'll see." "No thanks... I'll pass. That kid's severely psychotic." "He's just a jealous mess." "Why did you marry him?" "We're not married. We're in an open relationship." "Thank God. I was seriously worried." "YEAH. Well I better go find him- before he slits his wrists." "GOOD IDEA. Better take some duct tape-- just in case you're too late.

This book is just not meant for pretty reading. It’s not for coffee-table curiosity and other such cameo appearances. Think of it instead as industrial-grade survival gear. Duct tape and superglue. Leather straps lashed around it. Old shoelaces maybe. In tight double knots. Whatever it takes to keep it all together. Because this is war. The fight of your life. A very real enemy has been strategizing and scheming against you, assaulting you, coming after your emotions, your mind, your man, your child, your future. In fact, he’s doing it right this second. Right where you’re sitting. Right where you are. But I say his reign of terror stops here. Stops now. He might keep coming, but he won’t have victory anymore. Because it all starts failing when we start praying.

Her head snaps in my direction, eyes vibrant with ire. “What in the actual fuck? How the hell do you manage to attract women with your horrible personality? I really don’t get it. Unless they’re all brain-dead idiots and they duct-tape your mouth shut while they’re riding you.” She tilts her head, as if considering that, and nods once. “That has to be it. I can see how that might be doable.” “What the hell are you talking about?” And did she just fantasize about riding me with my mouth duct-taped shut? Why is that hot?

Lucifer snapped his fingers and froze them. He didn’t really care what they did to each other, but he’d spent several months in the wild capturing the beast he’d turned into a desk. “Children, children,” he said tucking his hands behind his back and adopting his father figure mode. It usually made his daughter, Muriel, laugh. “Must I remind you that I tasked you with a mission. One that I might add, Ysabel, you should be most eager to complete. What I do not need, is for you to FUCK IT UP!” He let his voice increase in treble until it boomed. “I’ve been more than tolerant, but enough is enough. You will cease bringing me your petty squabbles. You will do the job I assigned. And if you don’t want his tongue in your mouth, Ysabel, then bite it off. Although, really, if you enjoyed it so much, I don’t see what the problem is. Maybe he can help you remove the stick up your ass if you let him kiss the other end. Now, if we’re done here, and since I’m boss, and I say we are, leave and don’t come back until you’re done, because if you do, I’m duct taping the pair of you together and throwing you in a dark room until you learn to get along. Or fuck. I don’t really care which, but I prefer the latter so I can watch.

But like he said, it was clean, and it was very, very cool. I told him so.He beamed. Then ordered, "Seat belt!" as he stowed our bags in the backseat. I was trying. I'd already scanned the duct-tape-patched roof in vain. The clip was where I expected it to be, next to my left hip on the bench seat.Not so the other half. "Oh,yeah.I forgot to mention it's a lap belt." He reached over me, his arm brushing against my chest, his hair just grazing my cheekbone as he pulled the belt from the crevive between the seat and the door. I caught my breath. And jumped a little when he shoved the pieces together with a loud click. "Old parts," he apologized. Quivery parts,I thought as my insides settled.Kinda.