Some people may be famous for creating a pencil sharpener. I'm famous for my tits.
Life is just a series of peaks and troughs. And you don't know whether you're in a trough until you're climbing out, or on a peak until you're coming down. And that's it you know, you never know what's round the corner. But it's all good. "If you want the rainbow, you've gotta put up with the rain. " Do you know which "philosopher" said that? Dolly Parton. And people say she's just a big pair of tits.
Nothing ruins a good thing quite like knowing you share your opinions with mindless little tits.
Sarcasm will make your tits fall off.
You know, in ten years you're gonna be playing soccer with your tits, what do you think of that?
Imagine that, a poncho sombrero combo, I'll be off my tits on happiness.
You walk into a strip club with a wad of cash; they all flock around you. Strippers are just pigeons with tits. They go where the bread is.
The tits and the hair and the personality helped build the whole Dolly deal, but it was my music that brought me out of the Smokey Mountains.
Critics are like ticks on a dog or tits on a motor: ornamental but dysfunctional.
Look at me. I’m skinny, I have a big nose, no tits and no ass, but in a room full of beautiful women, I would still leave with the most gorgeous guy.
All of the sudden people say, "She's got tits and legs and blond hair. Let's talk to her!" I've been paying dues for years in modeling. Not only that, it took a month and a half of Chuck Russell, The Mask's director, and Jim Carrey trying to get New Line to say O. K. on me. I didn't sleep; I had an ulcer. Of course, when people talk of paying their dues, they mean years of going to acting school and auditionin.
They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but I find it's often in huge tits, too.
Too many piglets not enough tits.
So basically I did this whole show carrying 100lbs, looking out of one eye, dancing – and then my tits explode at the end. It's not as easy as it looks!
I saw the movie, he said. I know what it's about. Listen to this. When girls get to be about twelve or so - he leaned toward us - their tits bleed.
Tits always look better in a pink sweater.
Turn off your computer and go out of doors. Dig a large enough hole to transplant a mature apple tree. Nurture the tree, feed it, coddle it so that its fruit will be ample, bright and firm. Practice open-hand strikes against the rough bark of the trunk until it's time to harvest. Choose the champion of your apple crop, pluck it from the tree, and beat yourself about the face and tits with it until your mettle will suffice.
Everybody's got a bully pulpit now, and everybody's mad. I don't blame people for being angry and frustrated about everything. I'm old, but I'm not pulling my pants up to my tits. I take deep breaths of air when I enter a room and celebrate the fact that I'm alive.
People just don't know how to handle it if a woman uses smarts and brains rather than tits.
Re'lar Kvothe," he said seriously. "I am trying to wake your sleeping mind to the subtle language the world is whispering. I am trying to seduce you into understanding. I am trying to teach you. " He leaned forward until his face was almost touching mine. "Quit grabbing at my tits.