Exit Pursued By A Bear Quotes

Exit, pursued by a bear.

If you think I'm going to apologize for being drugged and raped, you have another thing coming.

Exit, pursued by a bear.

Remember what the poet Shakespeare said, Jeeves? 'Exit hurriedly, pursued by a bear.' You'll find it in one of his plays.

I suppose the fundamental distinction between Shakespeare and myself is one of treatment. We get our effects differently. Take the familiar farcical situation of someone who suddenly discovers that something unpleasant is standing behind them. Here is how Shakespeare handles it in "The Winter's Tale," Act 3, Scene 3: ANTIGONUS: Farewell! A lullaby too rough. I never saw the heavens so dim by day. A savage clamour! Well may I get aboard! This is the chase: I am gone for ever. And then comes literature's most famous stage direction, "Exit pursued by a bear." All well and good, but here's the way I would handle it: BERTIE: Touch of indigestion, Jeeves? JEEVES: No, Sir. BERTIE: Then why is your tummy rumbling? JEEVES: Pardon me, Sir, the noise to which you allude does not emanate from my interior but from that of that animal that has just joined us. BERTIE: Animal? What animal? JEEVES: A bear, Sir. If you will turn your head, you will observe that a bear is standing in your immediate rear inspecting you in a somewhat menacing manner. BERTIE (as narrator): I pivoted the loaf. The honest fellow was perfectly correct. It was a bear. And not a small bear, either. One of the large economy size. Its eye was bleak and it gnashed a tooth or two, and I could see at a g. that it was going to be difficult for me to find a formula. "Advise me, Jeeves," I yipped. "What do I do for the best?" JEEVES: I fancy it might be judicious if you were to make an exit, Sir. BERTIE (narrator): No sooner s. than d. I streaked for the horizon, closely followed across country by the dumb chum. And that, boys and girls, is how your grandfather clipped six seconds off Roger Bannister's mile. Who can say which method is superior?" (As reproduced in Plum, Shakespeare and the Cat Chap )

Maybe he is starting to understand. I don't really care, though. I do not want to be anyone's model for becoming a better person.

I didn't used to overthink my choices quite so much. Then someone made what I've always been told is a very important choice for me, and now I tend to overthink everything else.

And if someone does figure it out and starts a rumour, we'll just deal with it," Polly says. "What doesn't kill you, makes you stronger, and all that crap." "Do you ever dream of the day when your life can no longer be adequately summarized by Kelly Clarkson songs?" I ask. "All the time," Polly says.

Of course, if I were dead, they could just bury me, and move on. Broken is harder to deal with.

But I have faith in you. You seem like the type who eats fear for breakfast.

There's a moment when I know that I should scream. But screaming would be hard. And blackness would be easy. Black picks me.

People will say you’re coping wrong, but really there’s no wrong way. Anything that lets you keep going is the right thing, as long as it’s not damaging. You need to find the way that works for you.

I've never met any of these women before, and I will never see any of them after today. I don't know their names and they don't know mine. I've been on teams and in clubs my whole life, surrounded by people who are united by a common purpose, and I have never felt anything like this. Maybe it's the gas, but until this moment, I have never felt such a kinship with a person who was not actually family. I love every person in this room, and I'm pretty sure that if they asked, I'd do anything for them. Anything, except have a baby.

If someone starts throwing around stupid words like 'its a gift' or 'its in God's plan', you come right here, and i'll find you ten ways in which it isn't.

It's not the same." She holds the stack of cones in her hand and leans back against the stage looking at me with a serious face. "You and i, we're not the same. Not even close. I said yes, and you didn't even get asked the question.

I do not want to be anyone’s model for becoming a better person. “Can

I am gone for ever. [Exit, pursued by a bear,

I have only a few more mornings in this world, in this world that loves me for what I love and for what I am good at. One more minute. One more.

Maybe this would be easier if I acted like I am broken. Then they'll be able to fix me. You can't fix something that doesn't know it's broken.

I’m near hysteria, I can feel it. I’m going to scream and scream and scream to make up for the screaming I didn’t do last night. I am going to pull my skin off and grind it into the floor and then I’m going to cry until I’ve got nothing less.

Will there be bears?" "There will be two: white bears, as soft and heavy as snow, as fell as January, one beyond the other, like the mountains on the edge of Thule. They have waked. There is old fire in their bellies; yellow moonlight in their seeking eyes; blood only in their minds.

a debate isn’t a competition, it’s a civil war.

I'd do anything for them. Anything; except have a baby.

He's afraid that if he touches me, I'll forget that he's my dad, not my rapist.

Or at least charge him en masse and see how he runs when pursued by a sleuth of bears.

She’s what?” asked Valentine carefully. Tarleton shrugged. “Flown the coop. Done a runner. Buggered off. Absconded. Exit, pursued by a bear.” He paused. “She’s gone.

Anything that lets you keep going is the right thing.

I have barred myself from thinking I’m improving because thus far I have only been fooling myself. Nevertheless, I think I’m improving.

I have never in my life been fragile. She passes me a drink of water and I take a mouthful before she lets me back onto the pillow. Everything is heavy and the light hurts my eyes.

Polly grabs my other hand and the heart monitor they’ve got me hooked up to beeps at a frantic pace. I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe. I left the dance with a boy I didn’t know and I can’t breathe.

I need you to say it, Polly,” I whisper it. It will be real soon as she does, but there’s no one better at pulling off Band-Aids than Polly Olivier.

I want to tell her that I’m okay. I want to be okay. I want Dion to stop looking at me like I am going to break in half. I want to dance in front of the crowd, to hear them yell for us, to fly and be caught by people I trust. But I can’t do any of those things. Not anymore.