Phrases Tattoos Quotes

I don't know many rules to live by,' he'd said. 'But here's one. It's simple. Don't put anything unnecessary into yourself. No poisons or chemicals, no fumes or smoke or alcohol, no sharp objects, no inessential needles--drug or tattoo--and...no inessential penises either.' 'Inessential penises?' Karou had repeated, delighted with the phrase in spite of her grief. 'Is there any such thing as an essential one?' 'When an essential one comes along, you'll know,' he'd replied.

I am alone this evening, and I am alone because of a cruel twist of fate, a phrase which here means that nothing has happened the way I thought it would. Once I was a content man, with a comfortable home, a successful career, a person I loved very much, and an extremely reliable typewriter, but all of those things have been taken away from me, and now the only trace I have of those happy days is the tattoo on my left ankle. As I sit in this very tiny room, printing these words with a very large pencil, I feel as if my whole life has been nothing but a dismal play, presented just for someone else’s amusement, and that the playwright who invented my cruel twist of fate is somewhere far above me, laughing and laughing at his creation.

Snagging the ball from Pietr, Derek leaned in and snapped, “What? You think you’re a bad-ass because you’ve got a tattoo?” Derek body-checked Pietr with a force that would have sent anybody else onto the floor. Pietr wobbled but didn’t even move his feet to compensate. A minute later Derek skidded across the gym floor. Pietr was methodically dribbled and passed the ball between them. I saw him mouth the phrase “That’s why I’m a bad-ass!

Potential boyfriends could not smoke Merit cigarettes, own or wear a pair of cowboy boots, or eat anything labeled either lite or heart smart. Speech was important, and disqualifying phrases included “I can’t find my nipple ring” and “This one here was my first tattoo.” All street names had to be said in full, meaning no “Fifty-ninth and Lex,” and definitely no “Mad Ave.” They couldn’t drink more than I did, couldn’t write poetry in notebooks and read it out loud to an audience of strangers, and couldn’t use the words flick, freebie, cyberspace, progressive, or zeitgeist. . . . Age, race, weight were unimportant. In terms of mutual interests, I figured we could spend the rest of our lives discussing how much we hated the aforementioned characteristics.

I want to get a tattoo. I have it planned out.” “What of?” “Words. A phrase. ‘The end of love’” “What’s it from?” “It’s just something in my head.” ‘It’s something that hurts, that I can’t seem to get out, that keeps me up in the early morning. I think that maybe if I could do something with it, write it on my body forever, I could get it out of my heart.

She's telling me that the end of love is a fine phrase to ponder, but a poor choice for a tattoo. Because just as there are Post-its and red condominiums doors, there are also tree branches and coastlines. There are sleeping bags and tents and pinpricks of stars, there are people like her, there is the person I'm becoming.

I want to believe all of that, just as I want to believe that one morning in the ninth century a Scottish king looked up and saw St. Andrew’s diagonal cross in the sky above—white clouds against a blue sky—and took it as a sign to march outnumbered against the Angles. His vision and victory gave birth to the Scottish flag—white × against a blue backdrop—and is too good a story to not be true. And I want to believe that the patron saint of golfers did actually utter St. Andrews’ town motto as his final words, the Latin phrase now stitched into my putter cover and the only tattoo I might ever get: Dum Spiro Spero. While I breathe, I hope.

I like the idea of having a matching tattoo with Simon. I guess it makes me feel like I’ve found a friend in my lonely little world and will have someone to remember when I eventually leave. More importantly, I like the message. Because really, those exact words cross my mind every day, What better phrase to get tattooed than my daily mantra?

Goddamn Whidby. I should get the phrase tattooed, given how many times it crossed my mind.

I left the cemetery and headed straight to the tattoo parlor. "Love is stronger than death" has been etched on my heart for some time now so i've decided to make it official. That phrase, along with your name, "Esther Grace", and a shooting star will soon appear on my body for all to see. Perched where i am, that's my understanding of your final resting place. It ain't final. Love, Daddy.