One thing I've never been accused of is slowly coming into something. I always go full on (and ask) "Now how do we make this work?"
Experimentation is the least arrogant method of gaining knowledge. The experimenter humbly asks a question of nature.
Nobody says anything to me now when it comes to Japanese. They actually ask me things. I now have power!
I have nothing to ask for, thanks to God. Everything I have, God has given me.
The kids ask about marriage. It's meaning more and more to them. So it's something we've got to look at.
I love when pictures ask questions or make others ask questions.
Ask not from whence I came for the gravity of the future pulls me ever forward.
[Lighting a cigarette] Well, I'm not here to impinge on anybody else's lifestyle. If I'm in a place where I know I'm going to harm somebody's health or somebody asks me to please not smoke, I just go outside and smoke. But I do resent the way the nonsmoking mentality has been imposed on the smoking minority. Because, first of all, in a democracy, minorities do have rights. And, second, the whole pitch about smoking has gone from being a health issue to a moral issue, and when they reduce something to a moral issue, it has no place in any kind of legislation, as far as I'm concerned.
Helplessness is a place of power if you're helpless before God. Ask God for help in everything you do.
We thank Him for everything before we ask Him for anything!
Leadership isn't answering the questions others ask. Leadership is asking others to answer their own questions.
When you set out for Ithaca, ask that your way be long
Often when we ask for advice, we don't really want advice-we want someone to say "That's great! Go for it!"
I am astonished by the amount and quality of love that is available if we will ask, and participate and show up for life.
We Ask the Gods for Answers and They Give Us Questions
I'm interested in making films that ask questions and don't particularly provide answers.
Never ask age of a woman.
…. he grabs my wrists and pins my arms up above my head, locking them in one hand. "Are you mine?" he asks gruffly, as his hand returns between my thighs and briefly enters me. I gasp. Undone. Delirious. "I'm yours. " His expression is tense, ravenous, so hot as he scrapes his finger deep into my channel. "Do you want me inside you?" My need clogs my windpipe as pleasure shoots down my legs. "I want you everywhere. All over me. Inside me.
When a student comes and asks, "Should I become a mathematician?" the answer should be no. If you have to ask, you shouldn't even ask.
One question you never want to ask God is, 'What's wrong with me - because He'll tell you.