What If Quotes - Page 11

When I was in my 20s I wasn't sure of myself. Now I can really stretch. I don't have to stay in the box. At this point I can say to myself, So what if I fall, so what? I'm going to get back up.

I'm not going to make a judgment on plastic surgery because I don't have to yet. I mean, I'd like to think I'll feel great about myself and age gracefully, but then I think, Well, what if I do want a little bit of something? I'm open to being open.

When I was ambushed by global warming advocates recently - no, they haven't given up - they asked me the same questions they always ask: "What if you're wrong?" and "If you're wrong will you apologize to future generations?" I always answer, "What if you're wrong? Will you apologize to my twenty kids and grandkids for the largest tax increase in American history?" They usually don't have anything to say after that.

What if my words Were meant for deeds.

What if you take a human mind, and upload it into one of these machines?

What if, when this fog scatters and flies upward, the whole rotten, slimey city goes with it, rises with the fog and vanishes like smoke.

Elvis has left the building to climb up that heavenly stair. So what if he looks like a wart-hog in heat?

What we need to do first is to find out how big the migration problem is and what the economic consequences of it are for the United States and Mexico. We hear a lot of extravagant numbers and claims made, but very few hard facts. We don't really know what, if any, burdens illegal migrants impose on the US economy or the social welfare apparatus, and those issues must be clarified.

When I am kicking around show ideas, or really any idea, usually an image comes to me. I don't really start with a character or a logline like, "What if the electricity turned off?"

Incentivizing more clinics to incentivize the young women, to may or may not want to have an abortion to say, you know what, if we talk her into an abortion, we'll be able to sell it for 75 bucks up to 300 bucks.

And what if---what are you if the people who are supposed to love you can leave you like you're nothing?

Hey, what if those crop circles are just ads for Target?

Never drink alone, that's what they say. But you know what? If you drink you will never be alone, alright?

The power of the Web is obvious and undeniable. We diminish it at our peril. But what if the most potent social effect to spread outward from the Internet turns out to be disinhibition, the breaking down of personal restraints and the endless elevation of oneself? It may be already.

I am always nervous about doing voice-over work. I'm always clammy and I worry, "What if my voice squeaks? What if I don't deliver it right?" Until you start saying the lines, it's always nerve-wracking, for some reason, and I've never gotten over that.

What if there were no hypothetical situations?

In society, we have these unspoken rules of conduct, these 'shoulds.' Even though we pride ourselves on being a democracy, there are all these ways we say you 'should' behave. But what if you're living your life by the 'shoulds' and you're not really living your life?

So what if Brian made me feel like fireworks were going off inside me. He could also make me feel like a big fat clod of heartsick dirt. It was like he could take any emotion I had and make it ten times stronger. Which is great when it's happiness but pretty darn awful if it's anything sad.

No matter what, if you're a parent, you have to make sacrifices.

But is it just then that the few and the wealthy should be the rulers? And what if they, in like manner, rob and plunder the people, - is this just?

What if you wake up some day, and you're 65... and you were just so strung out on perfectionism and people-pleasing that you forgot to have a big juicy creative life?

What if we gave fifty percent of our discretionary budget to the world’s poor and then counted on the moral power of that action to protect us?

Ask yourself: If I can't avoid it, change it, or make it go away, what if I changed my response to it? What if I decided to stop letting it bother me?

And a question stirred within me: What if he, this yellow-eyed creature, in his disorderly, filthy mound of leaves, in his uncomputed life, is happier than we are?

I catch myself thinking 'Thank God For This' out of habit, and then I understand what he's so concerned about. What if my parents' God, their whole belief system, is just something concocted by a bunch of scientists to keep us under control? And not just their beliefs about God and whatever else is out there, about right and wrong, about selfishness?