Women's magazines continue to print 'helpful' articles on How to Hang on to Your Husband while thousands of wives write to me and complain that 'hanging is too good for 'em.
God's plan makes you sing about resurrection when your hanging on a cross.
Hanging and wiving goes by destiny.
Death by hanging. . . well, in view of the whole situation, I never expected anything different. It's all right.
Indians love to travel with their families, and they bring along everything including the kitchen and cooking utensils. Third-class coaches are always filled to capacity with people literally hanging out of the windows.
There's a choice that we have to make as people, as individuals. If you want to be great at something, there's a choice you have to make. We all can be masters at our craft, but you have to make a choice. What I mean by that is, there are inherent sacrifices that come along with that. Family time, hanging out with friends, being a great friend, being a great son, nephew, whatever the case may be. There are sacrifices that come along with making that decision.
Most of them were murderers. But when I went there to talk, they were the nicest people. I did a reading. I said, "Thank you," and then they said to me, "Could you talk some more?" And I said, "Why?" and they answered, "Most of us are in solitary confinement, so the moment you finish talking, they take us back to our cells. We like hanging out here together. "
I was hanging out with Jonathan Richman last night.
I like doing other things. I like getting high, hanging out with my kids. I like drinking. I have so many demons.
There are two types of paparazzi. The ones who hide who get you with your mouth hanging wide open or jumping up and down like an idiot on the street. I much prefer them to the ones who come out and follow you.
When I look at music, everything is blurred, and I like it that way. I grew up like that, hanging out with different types of people who listened to so many different types of music. I never wanted to be part of any one clique. I loved it all.
True happiness for me is playing a concert in Blink-182, and then hanging out with my friends and my wife and son, and going out for Mexican food.
I was a shy, quiet kid. I was happiest playing by myself with my toys, rather than hanging around people.
I mean, at first, it was kind of disappointing. But people recover from disappointment. Otherwise we'd all be hanging from nooses. Right?
I think the rule of thumb should be this: if you preface a sentence about a friend with the phrase, 'I love X, but. . . ' more than once in any conversation, you should stop hanging out with them.
Hanging one scoundrel, it appears, does not deter the next. Well, what of it? The first one is at least disposed of.
No man ever achieved worth-while success who did not, at one time or other, find himself with at least one foot hanging well over the brink of failure.
The student ends up lusting after time with the teacher, hanging on her every word, and forgetting that this is about him or her, the student, not the teacher.
My life was on the line here and my career and everything I worked for, it was hanging by a thread
I think that's what finally stopped me. I slid right to the edge. My legs were hanging over. And I could feel it too. I don't know how. There was no wind, no sound, no change of temperature. There was just this terrible emptiness reaching up for me.