Nugent Quotes

When the law disarms good guys, bad guys rejoice.

Vegetarians are cool. All I eat are vegetarians--except for the occasional mountain lion steak.

I will take a serious approach to a subject usually treated lightly, which is a nerdy thing to do.

If guns cause crime, all of mine are defective.

I didn't invent the middle finger, but I perfected the use of it.

If you want to keep your dignity intact, stay away from tequila.

To my mind it is wholly irresponsible to go into the world incapable of preventing violence, injury, crime, and death. How feeble is the mindset to accept defenselessness. How unnatural. How cheap. How cowardly. How pathetic.

I don't like repeat offenders; I like dead offenders.

WANTING to be anything is the whole point of feminism. HAVING TO BE SOMETHING is what feminists fight against, or at least the ones I know.

We're romantic. We're hopeful. We're done for. The worst part of this all? The idea of struggle and compromise seems exciting to us-that's how stupid we are. There's no stopping fools, I say. We're still kids at heart. Those dreams are still there. Now we just have to go chase them.

A few years ago, I graduated college, diploma in one hand, margarita in the other, completely oblivious to the shit storm that was coming my way. Here's a preview: becoming a living, breathing, job-having, bill-paying, responsible adult? Really fucking difficult.

I hump the wild to take it all in, there is no bag limit on happiness.

There is plenty of suffering before the good happens. This is something that I have taken stock in, because I’ve dealt with plenty of bullshit for somebody so fresh out of the womb.

When I god older and realized my life was built around the idea my career would be something I wanted to love, to strive for, to be proud of, I was scared.

When you get older, you notice your sheets are dirty. Sometimes, you do something about it. And sometimes, you read the front page of the newspaper and sometimes you floss and sometimes you stop biting your nails and sometimes you meet a friend for lunch. You still crave lemonade, but the taste doesn’t satisfy you as much as it used to. You still crave summer, but sometimes you mean summer, five years ago. You remember your umbrella, you check up on people to see if they got home, you leave places early to go home and make toast. You stand by the toaster in your underwear and a big t-shirt, wondering if you should just turn in or watch one more hour of television. You laugh at different things. You stop laughing at other things. You think about old loves almost like they are in a museum. The socks, you notice, aren’t organized into pairs and you mentally make a note of it. You cover your mouth when you sneeze, reaching for the box of tissues you bought, contains aloe. When you get older, you try different shampoos. You find one you like. You try sleeping early and spin class and jogging again. You try a book you almost read but couldn’t finish. You wrap yourself in the blankets of: familiar t-shirts, caffe au lait, dim tv light, texts with old friends or new people you really want to like and love you. You lose contact with friends from college, and only sometimes you think about it. When you do, it feels bad and almost bitter. You lose people, and when other people bring them up, you almost pretend like you know what they are doing. You try to stop touching your face and become invested in things like expensive salads and trying parsnips and saving up for a vacation you really want. You keep a spare pen in a drawer. You look at old pictures of yourself and they feel foreign and misleading. You forget things like: purchasing stamps, buying more butter, putting lotion on your elbows, calling your mother back. You learn things like balance: checkbooks, social life, work life, time to work out and time to enjoy yourself. When you get older, you find yourself more in control. You find your convictions appealing, you find you like your body more, you learn to take things in stride. You begin to crave respect and comfort and adventure, all at the same time. You lay in your bed, fearing death, just like you did. You pull lint off your shirt. You smile less and feel content more. You think about changing and then often, you do.

Before i launch into a discussion of what a nerd is and where the idea of nerds comes from, I'd like to diclose that when i was eleven, I had a rich fantasy life in which I carried a glowing staff.

Fitting in" is one of those horrible diseases that turn reasonable minds into sheep-gelatin hive minds.

When Americans vote for a particular candidate, they vote for the candidate who reminds them of the kind of person they would have eaten lunch with.

Well. If you are worried about the effects of feminism and you are a man, it's probably because you are worried that men will start to be treated like women have been treated since the dawn of time. By this I mean worse, which makes you nervous, no doubt.

My lofty ambitions are partially due to the fact that I'm part of generation, "Yes You Can, I Guess: How about I throw a combination of money, attention, and prescription medication at the problem?

Ted Nugent is an asshole. He always was.

Really, I want you to finish this book feeling like we could become friends, if the timing was right. That's it. Oh, and by the way, you should drink while you're reading this book. If you want to play a drinking game, I suggest you take a shot when you feel like I am abusing commas.

I wish this were the kind if things kids learned early on. Gender doesn't determine the things you like, your hobbies, or your personality.

We have flown the air like birds and swum the sea like fishes but have yet to learn the simple act of walking the earth like brothers and sisters.’ – Martin Luther King, Jr

You don't need to belong to any particular class or ethnicity to be a nerd, but some ethnic stereotypes are nerdier than others.

You don’t have to love a person. You can love the idea of a person. You can idealize them and turn them into the person you need.

In the outside world, you will find more people who are kind than people who are not. Seek them out.

Life is not a movie. No happy ending is guaranteed. No wound is closed by magic. There had been lessons I had been refusing to learn. How if you aren’t letting somebody know they’re hurting you, they’ll keep doing it. How if you aren’t letting yourself know you’re hurting yourself, you’ll keep dating assholes.

MY ASS IS WORTH MORE THAN YOUR INCONVENIENCE ... that's my response to anyone opposed to universal background checks. If Ted Nugent has to wait three days because his wife wants a Howitzer for the backyard -- tough shit! If a background check keeps ONE gun out of the hands of ONE maniac thereby saving MY ass, it's worth it. May sound a bit selfish, but I'd hope you're equally fond of your own ass.

In hindsight, I know that high school is a festering pit of boredom and hormones, not to be taken as seriously as it seemed while I was there. It is earthly purgatory before you enter the better parts of your life: you've got one foot in heaven and the other in hell.

Here’s a preview: becoming a living, breathing, job-having, bill-paying, responsible adult? Really fucking difficult.

Diddums. Critics claim that somebody who had no children could

Let me tell you something—staying up all night working on a paper about Malcolm X ain’t got shit on staying up all night wondering if you will run out of money.

And if you looking for a surefire way to turn a comfortable party into a very alcohol-fueled romp through gender politics, bring up feminism.

Consider it all joy, my brothers and sisters, when you encounter various trials, for you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance.

You still crave summer, but sometimes you mean summer, five years ago.

You are too smart and too bright to get stuck. Do better. Become a mental athlete. Push yourself so much it's sickening, Stagnant water is full of mosquitos, remember that.

Truth can cause more pain than lies, I think. Some secrets are best left as secrets.

I don't think it's spiritually economic to be a skeptic about absolutely everything.

BEFORE HE CAME INTO a lot of money in 1839, Richard Plantagenet Temple Nugent Brydges Chandos Grenville, second Duke of Buckingham and Chandos, led a largely uneventful life.

When I was a young lad twenty or thirty or forty years ago I lived in a town where they were all after me on account of what I done on Mrs Nugent.

[Sir Nugent] wore so many rings on his fingers, and so many fobs and seals dangling at his waist, that he might have been taken for a jeweller advertising his wares.

After all, the way I see it, it takes only one person to murder you. It also takes only one person to fill your heart with the kind of joy that slaps you straight off your high horse. For the first time in a long time, I found myself believing in the possibility of both.

And then there’s me, terribly afraid to step out of the box and date someone different. Afraid to get hurt in a different, more complex way—by somebody who I actually trust and care about. My biggest fear. Nice guy was a bad word to me because I feared that lurching-stomach feeling of losing someone I love. Nice meant future, and the future was always uncertain.

Being at home was like a mattress to fall back on with the smallest of peas on the bottom, just large enough to bother the princess. I was damn lucky that I had a place to call home, but I didn't like the feeling of stealing my parents food and being unable to tell them when I could ever afford my own.

The club supporters’ old practice of shooting arrows into the air from their wands every time their Chasers scored was banned by the Department of Magical Games and Sports in 1894, when one of these weapons pierced the referee Nugent Potts through the nose.

Nobody wants to say, “I’m trying to get my feet on the ground” when they’re in their twenties. They want you to think they’re about to do something dangerous, or exciting, or different. We’re not “living at home,” we’re “crashing until we can afford a pad in Brooklyn.

Sir Nugent knew that Sylvester did not like him, but it never crossed his mind that Sylvester, or anyone else, held him in contempt. If he could have been brought to believe it, he would have known that Sylvester was queer in his attic, and he would have been very much shocked.

There must be some unwritten law that says about fifty people have to move into your house when somebody dies. If it weren’t for the smell of death clinging to the walls, you might think it was your family’s turn to host the month neighborhood potluck supper. A little beef and bingo at the Nugents’.

Whenever someone brings up the traits associated with being a functional human otherwise known as an "adult," I think, is this even possible for me? Probably not, is what I conclude. I mean, I'll eventually pay off my college loans at the age of forty-five by selling what's left of my liver, and I'll probably manage to find sustenance and remember to breathe oxygen constantly. I'll survive. However, for people like me...There will be years of struggle to keep myself afloat.

BEST ADVICE: Bring a jacket with you. Who knows where the day will end up?

People who go through life smiling miss out on the dignity of sorrow

How’r’ye, son. I’m Detective Sergeant Declan O’Toole, and that there’ –he nodded towards the back seat –‘is Detective James Mooney. Do you live in there?’ He pointed towards our house.

Getting involved was a no-brainer, and I flew to Los Angeles in May ’85. There were some stellar names there. I knew Ted Nugent and the guys from Journey and Iron Maiden, but I’d never met a lot of people: Dio, Mötley Crüe, W.A.S.P., Twisted Sister… Yet I was most excited that Michael McKean and Harry Shearer, who played David St. Hubbins and Derek Smalls in This Is Spinal Tap, were there! Now here was some proper fucking rock royalty!

If Santa Claus doesn’t exist, does God, or the devil?” Mum looked to Dad and he said, “Nobody knows.” I found that concept difficult. If they knew for a fact that Santa Claus didn’t exist, why didn’t they know for sure about God?

If we’re not careful, we may gain the world and lose the church—and then, ultimately, we’ll lose the world, too. When Christians begin substituting activism for discipleship, it’s not the world that becomes endangered, but the gospel.

There isn’t a bottle of sunscreen large enough or SPF high enough to save my father from sunburn. He has to wear baseball hats and T-shirts to the beach, or else he would turn so red people would draw butter and try to crack his claws off.

You don’t have to love a person. You can love the idea of a person. You can idealize them and turn them into the person you need. Alice loved the person that she thought I was. One way or another, I have managed to kill all the people who have loved me so far.

Not every girl has a bad-boy problem. Some of my friends get into relationships constantly. Others cheat all the time, or run away. Some get jealous. Some think they are too undateable to even try. Our dating pool is a circus of fuckups, misfits, and past mistakes that we keep on making. The brand of baggage you’re carrying on your back is the issue. But most of all, I think we fear the same thing. I think that thing is love. Real love. Think of your first love. Think of how Bambi-like you were, prancing around all excited and in love with everything. Then think of how that happiness was beaten to death with a hatchet, spit on, shit on, leaving you cold. If you watch something you care about get destroyed, you’re not going to want to go back to that place, no matter how pleasant it ever was.

Like Lord Nugent, George Papadimitriou had experienced the sense of strangeness and unreality that the flood produced. The gyptian owner of the boat he was traveling on told him that in gyptian lore, extreme weather had its own states of mind, just as calm weather did. “How can the weather have a state of mind?” said Papadimitriou. The gyptian said, “You think the weather is only out there? It’s in here too,” and tapped his head. “So do you mean that the weather’s state of mind is just our state of mind?” “Nothing is just anything,” the gyptian replied, and would say no more.

I knew, suddenly, that I was someone else, with more elements. It surprised me that the touching of hands could do that: reveal to you a new piece of who you were.

The truth is a fragile thing, but a lie, well told, can live forever. “ — Mark Twain

KATH: (Katherine) BRENT, daughter of Ed: Brent, dee'd., 300 acs. Northumberland Co., N.E. upon Quiough 421 Riv., S.E. upon land of Capt. Giles Brent. 9 Dec. 1662, p. 79, (554). (Capt. Gyles Brent, 4 May 1653, assigned to sd. Edm: Brent & by him given by will to sd. Kath.)

How does one go about getting an introduction to a fictional character?

Here’s how it works: If you answer yes to ten or more questions, then you should read this book. If you don’t, then buy it anyway and give it to the coolest person you know. This author needs money to eat her feelings. Does your college degree hang over your head like a rain cloud made of student loans, false hopes,

What does one do when every day is an open-ended schedule? Let’s see. I ate a lot. I organized my clothes by color one day. I tried to cut my own hair. Mostly, I did a lot of lazing around. I tried to get up early in the morning, because every time I got up after 12 P.M., I felt like I was acting like the irresponsible stepfather of my own life.

Even the toughest of brothers can’t make their sister change the things they think they are entitled to. They can’t move you away from the jerks. They can simply hold their breath and their baseball bat.

I’ve always been—despite my deep desire to become one of those writers who actually felt the immense weight of suffering—a fairly optimistic person.

Those movies taught a valuable lesson that has stuck with me for years: The moment you seek solace in a stranger, a man wearing a boxy leather jacket will break into your house and chase you around before you have to kill him in a swelling conclusion of self-defense.

Then God said, “Let us make humankind in our image, according to our likeness; and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the birds of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the wild animals of the earth, and over every creeping thing that creeps upon the earth.” So God created humankind in his image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them. God blessed them, and God said to them, “Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth and subdue it; and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the air and over every living thing that moves upon the earth” (Gen 1:26–28). Twice these verses affirm that humans were made in God’s image, and both times they go on to say that God granted humans dominion over the rest of creation. God created all humans in his image precisely because he wanted the entire race to share responsibility for creation. There is no superior class, ethnic group, gender, or territory. Humans must learn to share authority and responsibility in ways that affirm and uphold the dignity of all humans.

In raising Jesus from the dead, God communicates with unmistakable clarity that his kingdom does not come through human effort. It is a divine accomplishment from start to finish.

And, most important, if you like shaving your entire region, and somebody tells you that it's wrong because it makes you look like a baby, that person is a lunatic. You are an adult woman who happens to have no pubic hair. You are not a Lolita. You are an adult woman.

You will lose touch with people you thought you wouldn’t, watch from a distance while these people get married, gain weight, lose weight, move across the country, and get new sets of friends you will never meet. But you will look at your pictures of them and remember the nights you drank too much rum with them and you will enjoy those moments immensely. You will know what it is like to experience true nostalgia—the feelings a Hot Pocket can elicit will be astounding. It will not be a bittersweet kind of thing, because you know that it’s not as much growing apart as it is growing up. There will be successes, and failures, and a lot of good and bad things. You will watch yourself and the people you choose to be with fall in love and get married, get jobs, get fired, get a terrible tattoo, have babies, get sick, get better, get worse, lose parents, grow older, grow smarter. Things will flash forward, pass before your eyes like the lights at a terrible nightclub.

When right-wing rock star Ted Nugent drew national ire for calling President Obama a “subhuman mongrel,” some prominent conservatives like Rick Perry initially came to his defense, while others dodged media questions about the racially charged insult. But after months of “listening sessions” with African American civic leaders, students, and government officials, Rand had come to appreciate how hurtful comments like those could be, even when coming from unserious celebrity provocateurs. One night after Nugent made the comment, Rand emailed Stafford saying he wanted to denounce the remark. Stafford was sympathetic, but he cautioned that, politically, it could cause problems on the right. As a father, doesn’t it offend you? Rand wrote back. Stafford glanced up from his phone at his adopted daughter, who was black, and then at his wife, who had been fuming about Nugent’s comment ever since she heard it. “You’re right,” he told Rand. That night the senator tweeted, “Ted Nugent’s derogatory description of President Obama is offensive and has no place in politics. He should apologize.

Nora failed to derail the train of conversation. Now they’re all sitting in the Go Fuck Yourself Depot wishing they’d gotten off at Polite Small Talk Junction instead.

An unwanted child had an unwanted child. Perhaps the apple didn’t fall far from the tree after all. There are several clichés I could use to illustrate the fact that I am undoubtedly my father’s son. Like him, I did not want a baby.

Marrying into a wealthy family was not a bad option, but raising a child? When I had just killed one? I do, after all, have a sense of morality.

After the interview ended, Stone and I were ushered out. Alex had an interview with Ted Nugent to conduct. In the elevator, Stone scrutinized me. “When we try to assess threats,” he said, “the kooks are almost always wearing snowsuits in 90-degree weather.

So why did the voice of evil choose Mum as its vessel? Was she born with a genetic predisposition, or was her madness learnt? Did she allow it to take hold of a malrotated genome – a disease with no toxic chemicals to kill it – or was it instilled in her mind by an outside force? Were there parental influences conditioning the mind? Just as Pavlov trained his dogs to salivate at the ring of a bell, did Mum learn to listen to the voice that permeated her thoughts, allowing that voice to control her actions? If there is a history of tormented minds in a family, then does genetics win the argument?

Does the mind have a safe-mode function that automatically stops you from downloading the hidden virus threatening to corrupt your precious files?

Às vezes, mentiras e verdades são a mesmíssima coisa.

O futuro é uma guerra que se ganha nas pequenas batalhas.

Apparently, I have been harbouring bitterness, resentment and frustration since my childhood. Now, there’s a surprise. What will the neighbours think? What will anybody think? I really couldn’t care less.

Draugai - tai žmonės, kurie primena tau tavo silpnybes.

Nereikia mylėti žmogaus. Galima mylėti žmogaus idėją. Galima jį idealizuoti ir paversti tokiu, kokio reikia.

Tiesa gali sukelti daugiau skausmo nei melas. Kai kurias paslaptis geriau palikti paslaptimis.

My daughter, Amanda Heron, was out there, looking for answers. I googled her and found a glut of information. Young people have no idea how available their data is.

NOVELS Coetzee, J.M. Disgrace. Exley, Frederick. A Fan's Notes. Kohler, Sheila. One Girl. Miller, Henry. Tropic of Cancer. Salter, James. Light Years, A Sport and a Pastime. Stone, Robert. Dog Soldiers. Welch, James. The Death of Jim Loney. Wharton, Edith. The Age of Innocence. White, Edmund. The Beautiful Room Is Empty. SHORT STORY COLLECTIONS Bloom, Amy. Come to Me. Cameron, Peter. The Half You Don't Know. Carver, Raymond. Where I'm Calling From. Cheever, John. The Stories of John Cheever. Gaitskill, Mary. Bad Behavior, Because They Wanted To. Houston, Pam. Cowboys Are My Weakness. Johnson, Denis. Jesus' Son. Nugent, Beth. City of Boys. O'Brien, Tim. The Things They Carried. O'Connor, Flannery. The Complete Stories. Paley, Grace. Enormous Changes at the Last Minute. Perrotta, Tom. Bad Haircut. White, Edmund. Skinned Alive. Yates, Richard. Liars in Love.

Today would have been an ordinary Saturday, except that two things happened: 1) The peacocks escaped, and 2) I started writing this story. Dad says if you want to write a story you should start by choosing a topic that you know a lot about. That’s why this isn’t a story about France (which I know a little bit about but not a lot), and it isn’t a story about my big sister Diana (who I used to know a lot about but now that she is fourteen-turning-fifteen I don’t anymore). This is a story about peacocks. I know a lot about peacocks because: a) Two peacocks live in the holiday flats across the road from me, and b) I’m good at finding them when they go missing. I’m good at finding things because I’m good at noticing details. For example, in February Mum was trying to make apple crumble and she couldn’t find the cinnamon. I went through the cupboard

This biblical warrant for “capital punishment” is also the grounds for its abolition in Christ. It naturally follows for Yoder that those whose faith centers on the conviction that Christ shed his own blood in the place of all capital offenders (“for the wages of sin is death,” Rom 6:23) must actively oppose the practice of capital punishment. In Yoder’s words, “Life is God’s peculiar possession, which man may not profane with impunity. Thus, the function of capital punishment in Genesis 9 is not the defense of society but the expiation of an offense against the image of God. If this be the case—and both exegetical and anthropological studies confirm strongly that it is—then the central events of the New Testament, the cross and the resurrection, are overwhelmingly relevant to this issue. The sacrifice of Christ is the end of all expiatory killing.”20

The spirit of the woods is like an old good friend It makes me feel warm and good inside I knew his name and it was good to see him again "Cause in the wind he's still alive

I didn’t stay to hear it burn. He was no longer he; it was a body, an “it,” in a domestic incinerator beside a barn in a field beside a house at the end of a lane, off a minor road.

Kad ir kiek stengtumeisi, skausmingiausi tavo gyvenimo tarpsniai iš atminties neišdyla. Širdgėla nepranyksta. Laikas negydo. Tai melas. Prie skausmo tiesiog pripranti. Daugiau nieko.

All is fair in love and war, isn’t it? Of course not. That is the biggest and most pernicious lie ever. How ridiculous. Nothing is fair in love and life, and I have wasted far too much of my time wishing it were not so.

Kevin Nugent

As long as you turn out smarter then me, kid, then I know I can die happy.

If your Spotify starts playing Ted Nugent after years of Arcade Fire, your cat will surely know something is up.

I think genocide happens every day in some part of the world and it is easier for us to pretend that it is not happening, easier to turn off the TV or skip that column in the newspaper.

they thought and felt by fits, unbalanced; they reflected.

Helen poured us some drinks. I remembered the carnations in my satchel, which I’d left at the front door. I had meant to present them to her on arrival. It seemed to me like the moment had passed. If we were now to drink gin, then The Kissing was imminent and the flowers were no longer necessary. I knocked back the gin and tonic she had poured for me. I winced at the sharp taste. I then realized why my parents sipped at their alcoholic drinks.