Five Quotes - Page 3

They do not love one another because they do not love themselves.

If you spend five minutes complaining, you have just wasted five minutes.

Seventy-five percent of MS sufferers are women

I have a sixth sense, but not the other five. If I wasn't making money, they'd put me away.

If you had five photos of anuses, I could not point mine out.

I don't have 'five' you can borrow. My piggy bank is officially anorexic.

I write five pages a day. If you would read five pages a day, we'd stay right even.

How can you tell your wife you are just popping out to play a match and then not come back for five days?

There are only five things you can do in baseball - run, throw, catch, hit and hit with power.

It just fascinates me, those private mechanisms that we use to make sense of the world - whether they have to do with the five senses or not. I think literature is one of the only kinds of art that truly lets us into that.

Why you? Why us for that matter? Why anything? Because this moment simply is.

That's one thing Earthlings might learn to do, if they tried hard enough: Ignore the awful times and concentrate on the good ones.

I can never sit still for five minutes.

Ninety-five percent of all statistics, including this one, are bogus.

It turns out that we literally don't empathize unless we're physically present - that the oxytocin, the famous "tend and befriend" hormone is not produced unless we're present with all five senses.

Five friends I had and two of them snakes.

Not Churchill. Sixty-five, old for a Churchill.

Five senses; an incurably abstract intellect; a haphazardly selective memory; a set of preconceptions and assumptions so numerous that I can never examine more than a minority of them - never become even conscious of them all.

I'm not trying to get five medals. I'm not trying to be Michael Phelps.

If you tell the same story five times, it's true.

The gun made a ripping sound like the opening of a zipper on the fly of God Almighty.

I have this disease late at night sometimes, involving alcohol and the telephone.

It is just an illusion here on Earth that one moment follows another one, like beads on a string, and that once a moment is gone, it is gone forever.

- Why me? - That is a very Earthling question to ask, Mr. Pilgrim. Why you? Why us for that matter? Why anything? Because this moment simply is. Have you ever seen bugs trapped in amber? - Yes. - Well, here we are, Mr. Pilgrim, trapped in the amber of this moment. There is no why.

Its five o'clock some where