An apt aphorism half kills, half immortalizes.
Words are tricky. Sometimes you need them to bring out the hurt festering inside. If you don't, it turns gangrenous and kills you. . . . But sometimes words can break a feeling into pieces.
Rejection kills, disappointment only maims.
My parents believe in the principle of ‘sink or swim,’ or ‘what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger ― or it kills you. ” From “The Education of Robert Nifkin
Time cures you first, and then it kills you.
Hatred, in the course of time, kills the unhappy wretch who delights in nursing it in his bosom.
If a tree falls in the forest and kills your ex-wife, what do you do with the lumber?
(Television) rots the senses in the head! It kills imagination dead! It clogs and clutters up the mind! It makes a child so dull and blind He can no longer understand A fantasy, a fairyland! His brain becomes as soft as cheese! His powers of thinking rust and freeze! He cannot think -he only sees!
In painting, the key is not taking myself seriously to the point where it kills sincerity.
God afflicts with the mind of a father, and kills for no other purpose but that he may raise again.
A wife loves out of duty, and duty leads to constraint, and constraint kills desire.
Evil is a point of view. . . God kills, and so shall we; indiscriminately. . . for no creatures under God are as we are, none so like Him as ourselves. God kills indiscriminately and so shall we. For no creatures under God are as we are none so like him as ourselves.
All earthly joy begins pleasantly, but at the end it gnaws and kills.
They can't yank a novelist like they can a pitcher. A novelist has to go the full nine, even if it kills him.
An operation that eventually kills may be technically successful, and the man may die cured; and so a description of religion thatshowed it to be madness might first show how real and warm it was, so that if it perished, at least it would perish understood.
I have an outline but never use a teleprompter. That kills the connection.
Self-consciousness kills communication.
When I was released from prison everybody thought I'd go back to doing the same things I did before, but I had no desire to do any of that anymore. That stuff steals, kills, and destroys your life and robs you of all the blessings that God has for you.
When I am introduced as someone from New Orleans, people sometimes say: "I'm so sorry. " New Orleans. I'm so sorry. That's not the way it was before,not the way it's supposed to be. When people find out you're from New Orleans, they're supposed to tell you about how they got drunk there once, or fell in love there, or first heard the music there that changed their lives. At worst people would say: "I've always wanted to go there. " But now, it's just: "I'm sorry. " Man, that kills me. That just kills me.
Consider the black widow spider. It's a timid little beastie, useful and, for my taste, the prettiest of the arachnids, with its shiny, patent-leather finish and its red hourglass trademark. But the poor thing has the fatal misfortune of possessing enormously too much power for its size. So everybody kills it on sight.
