Ug My Quotes

It's not the traveling that takes courage Tally. I've done much longer trips on my own. It's leaving home.

My name is tally youngblood and my mind is very ugly

Sure am glad I'm not royalty," I muttered. "I wouldn't want to have to bump uglies with someone I can't stand. On a regular basis. And no one else." "Ow!" I exclaimed, trying to yank my fingers from Trent but finding them caught. Then I colored, realizing what I'd said. "Oh… sorry," I stammered, meaning it. "That was insensitive." Trent's frown turned into a sly smirk. "Bump uglies?" he said, eyes on the table behind me. "You are a font of gutter slang, Rachel. We must do this again.

I know what it’s like to be manipulated, Aya-la. And I know what it’s like to be in danger. While your city was building you mansions to live in, my friends and I have been protecting this planet. We’ve spilled more blood than you have flowing in your veins. So don’t try to make me feel guilty! -Tally Youngblood, Extras

I can pick up the city feeds on my antenna. It said they were going to change you all. Turn you into something less dangerous. Are you still...?" She gazed at him. "What do you think, David?" He peered into her eyes for a long moment, then sighed and shook his head. "You just look like Tally to me." She looked down, her vision blurring. What's the matter?" Nothing, David." She shook her head. "You just took on five million years of evolution again." I what? Did I say something wrong?" No." She smiled. "You said something right.

My God, woman. Your aura is glowing. Just admit you like him, bump uglies, and get on with your life!

My interest is to point out to you that you can walk, and please throw away all those crutches. If you are really handicapped, I wouldn’t advise you to do any such thing. But you are made to feel by other people that you are handicapped so that they could sell you those crutches. Throw them away and you can walk. That’s all that I can say. ‘If I fall....’ - that is your fear. Put the crutches away, and you are not going to fall.

you're infamous, Tally. Everyone's terrified of you. The new system may have made the other cities nervous, but they seem to think my little gang of psychotic sixteen-year-olds is worse" - Cable to Tally

I discovered for myself and by myself that there is no self to realize -- that's the realization I am talking about. It comes as a shattering blow. It hits you like a thunderbolt. You have invested everything in one basket, self-realization, and, in the end, suddenly you discover that there is no self to discover, no self to realize -- and you say to yourself "What the hell have I been doing all my life?!" That blasts you.

From now on, no one rewires my mind but me.

He turned to face her again, his late-pretty composure crumbling. “But you’re . . .” “Pretty? Think again.” She smiled. “I’m Tally Youngblood. My mind is very ugly. And I’m taking your car.

What the Motorcycle Said Br-r-r-am-m-m, rackerty-am-m, OM, AM: All-r-r-room, r-r-ram, ala-bas-ter- Am, the world’s my oyster. I hate plastic, wear it black and slick, hate hardhats, wear one on my head, That’s what the motorcycle said. Passed phonies in Fords, knockede down billboards, landed On the other side of The Gap, and Whee, bypassed history. When I was born (The Past), baby knew best. They shook when I bawled, took Freud’s path, threw away their wrath. R-r-rackety-am-m. Am. War, rhyme, soap, meat, marriage, the Phantom Jet are sh*t, and like that. Hate pompousness, punishment, patience, am into Love, hate middle-class moneymakers, live on Dad, that’s what the motorcycle said. Br-r-r-am-m-m. It’s Nowsville, man. Passed Oldies, Uglies, Straighties, Honkies. I’ll never be mean, tired, or unsexy. Passed cigarette suckers, souses, mother-fuckers, losers, went back to Nature and found how to get VD, stoned. Passed a cow, too fast to hear her moo, “I rolled our leaves of grass into one ball. I am the grassy All.” Br-r-r-am-m-m, rackety-am-m, OM, Am: All-gr-r-rin, oooohgah, gl-l-utton- Am, the world’s my smilebutton.

My name’s Tally Youngblood,” she said. “Sorry to disturb you, but this is a special circumstance.

Pretty? Think again.” She smiled. “I’m Tally Youngblood. My mind is very ugly. And I’m taking your car.

But thought is a very protective mechanism and is interested in its own survival. At the same time thought is opposed fundamentally to the functioning of this living organism. We are made to believe that there is such a thing as mind. But there is no such thing as your mind or my mind. Society or culture, or whatever you want to call it, has created us solely and wholly for the purpose of maintaining its own continuity and status quo. At the same time, it has also created the idea that there is such a thing as individual. But actually, there is a conflict between the two – the idea of the individual and the impossibility of functioning as an individual separate and distinct from the totality of man’s thoughts and experiences.

But somehow her satisfaction never lasted very long. She always found herself changing, pushing against the limits and ruining things for everyone around her. "It's not always my fault," she said softly. "Things just get complicated, sometimes.

I often tell people that I’m the biggest self-aware misogynist I know. I was writing a scene last night between a woman general and the man she helped put on the throne. I started writing in some romantic tension, and realized how lazy that was. There are other kinds of tension. I made a passing reference to sexual slavery, which I had to cut. I nearly had him use a gendered slur against her. I growled at the screen. He wanted to help save her child… no. Her brother? Ok. She was going to betray him. OK. He had some wives who died… ug. No. Close advisors? Friends? Maybe somebody just… left him? Even writing about societies where there is very little sexual violence, or no sexual violence against women, I find myself writing in the same tired tropes and motivations. “Well, this is a bad guy, and I need something traumatic to happen to this heroine, so I’ll have him rape her.” That was an actual thing I did in the first draft of my first book, which features a violent society where women outnumber men 25-1. Because, of course, it’s What You Do.

She stared at him, at his face. Simply stared as the scales fell from her eyes. "Oh, my God," she whispered, the exclamation so quiet not even he would hear. She suddenly saw-saw it all-all that she'd simply taken for granted. Men like him protected those they loved, selflessly, unswervingly, even unto death. The realization rocked her. Pieces of the jigsaw of her understanding of him fell into place. He was hanging to consciousness by a thread. She had to be sure-and his shields, his defenses were at their weakest now. Looking down at her hands, pressed over the nearly saturated pad, she hunted for the words, the right tone. Softly said, "My death, even my serious injury, would have freed you from any obligation to marry me. Society would have accepted that outcome, too." He shifted, clearly in pain. She sucked in a breath-feeling his pain as her own-then he clamped the long fingers of his right hand about her wrist, held tight. So tight she felt he was using her as an anchor to consciousness, to the world. His tone, when he spoke, was harsh. "Oh, yes-after I'd expended so much effort keeping you safe all these years, safe even from me, I was suddenly going to stand by and let you be gored by some mangy bull." He snorted, soft, low. Weakly. He drew in a slow, shallow breath, lips thin with pain, but determined, went on, "You think I'd let you get injured when finally after all these long years I at last understand that the reason you've always made me itch is because you are the only woman I actually want to marry? And you think I would stand back and let you be harmed?" A peevish frown crossed his face. "I ask you, is that likely? Is it even vaguely rational?" He went on, his words increasingly slurred, his tongue tripping over some, his voice fading. She listened, strained to catch every word as he slid into semi delirium, into rambling, disjointed sentences that she drank in, held to her heart. He gave her dreams back to her, reshaped and refined. "Not French Imperial-good, sound, English oak. You can use whatever colors you like, but no gilt-I forbid it." Eventually he ventured further than she had. "And I want at least three children-not just an heir and a spare. At least three-if you're agreeable. We'll have to have two boys, of course-my evil ugly sisters will found us to make good on that. But thereafter...as many girls as you like...as long as they look like you. Or perhaps Cordelia-she's the handsomer of the two uglies." He loved his sisters, his evil ugly sisters. Heather listened with tears in her eyes as his mind drifted and his voice gradually faded, weakened. She'd finally got her declaration, not in anything like the words she'd expected, but in a stronger, impossible-to-doubt exposition. He'd been her protector, unswerving, unflinching, always there; from a man like him, focused on a lady like her, such actions were tantamount to a declaration from the rooftops. The love she'd wanted him to admit to had been there all along, demonstrated daily right before her eyes, but she hadn't seen. Hadn't seen because she'd been focusing elsewhere, and because, conditioned as she was to resisting the same style of possessive protectiveness from her brothers, from her cousins, she hadn't appreciated his, hadn't realized that that quality had to be an expression of his feelings for her. Until now. Until now that he'd all but given his life for hers. He loved her-he'd always loved her. She saw that now, looking back down the years. He'd loved her from the time she'd fallen in love with him-the instant they'd laid eyes on each other at Michael and Caro's wedding in Hampshire four years ago. He'd held aloof, held away-held her at bay, too-believing, wrongly, that he wasn't an appropriate husband for her. In that, he'd been wrong, too. She saw it all. And as the tears overflowed and tracked down her cheeks, she knew to her soul how right he was for her. Knew, embraced, and rejoiced.

Shay, I never would have gotten used to the idea. I don’t want to be ugly all my life. I want those perfect eyes and lips, and for everyone to look at me and gasp. And for everyone who sees me to think Who’s that? and want to get to know me, and listen to what I say.” “I’d rather have something to say.

Was he okay with you staying over? Wasnt worried about you two bumping uglies in the night?" Haran is dicking around. He knows that my uglies and Elisha's have never officially met.

Karla found me as a pup in a pet store over at the town center, barely a mile from here. She said I was special and stood out from the crowd. Compared to the other uglies they had behind bars there, of course I was irresistible. When I walked in the front door for the first time I was welcomed with open arms, except for Matt who stepped on my foot. He gets a pass on that one since he wasn't yet a year old. I'm lucky to have such a good family to live with. Of course, there are areas of improvement I've identified for each of them, but since I can't write or talk, the odds of getting my recommended changes implemented are nonexistent. For me, as long as I don't pee on the carpet I'm meeting standards. They call me Beckham after David Beckham, the superstar soccer player.

But we lost so much in the Prettytime - all the foundations were gone. So we're stuck making it up as we go along!" Tally laughed. "So what else is new, Frizz? Life doesn't come with an instruction manual. So don't tell me that humanity being logic-missing is my fault.

It must be horrible to see an ugly face when your surrounded by such beautiful people all the time " . In my opinion , it does happens sometimes .

To my utter astonishment, Bria grinned, completely unaffected. “I’m just kidding. Except about bumping uglies with a certain hard-hearted grump with a wicked tongue.” She waggled her eyebrows at me. “And I do mean wicked.” Jerking her head toward the exit, she said, “Come on. Time’s a wastin’. Let’s take that horrible suit out for a spin. By

When writing personal diary, it is important to mention childhood and UG College life too. Childhood friends Gopi, Jaya Krishna, Kaliraj, Deepa are now unknown to me, I do not even know what they are doing and where they are now. High school friends are in touch and they are best business people now with so much business attitude than neutral attitude, which is why I do not indulge with them much and anyhow I am entering MSc PhD for sure, so those people are just friends and let it be. And UG life, Kalasalingam, Kalasalingam I can not say my memories in single Para, just like Nalanda it needs at least 10000 pages to write still will go incomplete because of sub stories like Maha Bharata, Three completely genuine friends/ Persons, 1) Dayana Kirubavathy, 2)Arun Arumugaperumal 3) Fathima Mohideen Rest of the people were in one or another way fraudsters. There is a special fraud which I like very much because although she is fraud but still she herself accepts the fact that she is fraud and want to compensate the society with science as it was her Dharma - The science she chose was Cancer Biology, and her name is Jayasindu Mathiyazhagan now a Scientist. ButI do not mingle with these people now because they found their way already, And I have found a way for me. So let them be wherever they are and If met by chance, it better to say Hi and Smile and ask how they are, that is more than enough

Dave? this is John. Your pimp says bring the heroin shipment tonight, or he'll be forced to stick you. Meet him where we buried the Korean whore. The one without the gatee." that was code. it meant "Come to my place as soon as you can, it's important." Code, you know, in case the phone was ugged.

Actually if someone whether it is a boy or girl who is not physically looking good , then we have to see his/her character, profession and attitude, but if the person is beautiful, there is nothing wrong in appreciation, but I use this appreciation only for Unknown or new people, if they are already friends to me then I hardly appreciate it, because once they become friends and keep on appreciating is not good, it is a failure attitude, When I was in my UG, I had a Chemical Engineering professor, Srilakshmi Nair from Kerala, after she took course in fundamentals of reaction engineering, she asked for hand written feedback, I wrote mam, whether you put me pass or put me backlog I do not care, you are very beautiful and I love your smile, She asked me meet her in her office, and she threatened me (Just for fun) that I will give your feedback to our HOD, then I replied her, what if he also feels the same? She laughed without limit, almost everyone nearby who were listening, they taught that I will apologize and write apology letter and all, but I made them laugh.,

Secret behind corona - gene cloning mus musculs cochlia Arey it was my UG thesis, Isay it because do not raise question on me regarding corona

Thus, the people I scold, play and irritate are the people that are close to my heart. And I am not the same person for other people, If I have to consider someone as close then i should have talked with them at least a little while. And naming it in different manner, shows your dirty mind not mine. And even if there is something between me and the people that are close to my heart, what is the issue here? did they make complaints about me? or did i harass them? You have right to ask me question only if it is against law or immorality. The color of the dress, what I eat, What I watch is my personal, and As i control my subconscious mind it may affect people but to avoid that just consider me as Indian citizen that is all. Then whatever I do will be electronically recorded for marketing as bangalore or Tamilnadu or wherever I go, the things are same. And coming to talking with me, Nobody can reach near me without I allow you to - Yes I said the truth. It is not that I am silent and I can not talk. I can talk anytime with anyone but I choose people and my subconscious mind choose people. Wherever I go and eat or shopping or any events I will be silent for a while so that my subconscious works there, and that will stop unnecessary people. This is my secret. Even where i study or work also I allow only certain people to be close to me although I talk with almost all in academic institutions or working places. Take my Ug college, or Nalanda or verzeo, I was sharing a lot with only certain people, I chose them and they are close to me always, you think in any manner I don't even care. Kalasalingam, Nalanda and verzeo are always very close to my heart than anyone else because these three places have witnessed me directly, and they know a lot about me than anyone else. My parents and personal friends cycle is my personal. But for society whatever I wish to contribute, I will contribute only through science but for science I need knowledge on each and every aspects of life. So that is it. If you do not understand still then you are dump.

I Origins is the good sci fi movie but it says exactly very well about how researchers are treated in society because they touch research with ethics, and so, their way of approach towards life is diffracted by the society and their relationships go into karmic hole, whatever they get in their life will never reach their goals, that is why science needs traditionality, I am not saying only for this movie, I have seen this type bad karmic people even in My UG life when I was doing Mus Musculus Gene cochlia gene cloning project, believe my words or not your wish, but complete modernity in science will leave to no where but karmic hole, whether is India or USA, I never support plastic surgery and cosmetic things and all, I never use cosmetic products myself only very few such as shops, shampoos and finally perfume that is all, I never encourage cosmetic products whether it is Indian or Foreign

I am getting more stronger when I am in my home, and will get more and more and more stronger If I choose Kalasalingam my UG college

Thought creates the space between the thinker and his thoughts, and then tells himself, “I am looking at my thoughts.

had my splat gun, but I wasn’t a brave person. I ran away from big-bad-uglies. It increased my life span dramatically.

I don’t want to be ugly all my life. I want those perfect eyes and lips, and for everyone to look at me and gasp. And for everyone who sees me to think Who’s that? and want to get to know me, and listen to what I say.” “I’d rather have something to say.

Shay scowled. “What, can’t you stand me? Do you need to get some picture into your head so you can imagine it instead of my face?” “Shay! Come on. It’s just for fun.” “Making ourselves feel ugly is not fun.” “We are ugly!” “This whole game is just designed to make us hate ourselves.

There’s been times I’ve been miserable. Times where all I wanted to do was lay down and die. If I added them up, those times would beat the good times two to one, no doubt about that,” Buddy Lee said. Gerald opened his mouth to speak, but Buddy Lee held that forefinger up and waggled it side to side. “But good times or bad, I ain’t never lied about who I was. I ain’t never pretended to be anything but a hell-raising, whiskey-drinking, hard-loving redneck son of a bitch. Most nights I sleep like a baby. I ain’t ashamed of who I am. I’d like to think my boy picked that up from me. How about you, Winthrop? How you feel about yourself coming home to Chrissy after spending all night bumping uglies with Tangerine? What do the man in the mirror think about the man who always running his mouth about people he called deviants and disgusting? Who talks about it ain’t Adam and Steve, it’s Adam and Eve and all that happy shit, when the whole time he was lighting it up with the T in LGBTQ? Which one of us you think sleeps better … hoss?

Look here, I want to experience God, truth, reality or what you will, so I must understand the nature of the experiencing structure inside of me before I deal with all that. I must look at the instrument I am using. You are trying to capture something that cannot be captured in terms of your experiencing structure, so this experiencing structure must not be there in order that the other thing may come in. What that is, you will never know. You will never know the truth, because it's a movement. It's a movement! You cannot capture it, you cannot contain it, you cannot express it. It's not a logically ascertained premise that we are interested in. So, it has to be your discovery. What good is my experience?

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This is my life homie you decide yours