List Of 1842+ Blood Quotes

I Am Human, All Too Bloody Human.

Many Years Ago I Sent An Old, Beloved Jacket To A Cleaner, The Sycamore Cleaners. It Was A Leather Jacket Covered In Guinness And Blood And Marmalade, One Of Those Jobs... And It Came Back With A Little Note Pinned To It, And On The Note It Said, 'it Distresses Us To Return Work Which Is Not Perfect.' So That Will Do For Me. That Can Go On My Tombstone.

You May Tell A Tale That Takes Up Residence In Someone's Soul, Becomes Their Blood And Self And Purpose. That Tale Will Move Them And Drive Them And Who Knows That They Might Do Because Of It, Because Of Your Words. That Is Your Role, Your Gift.

I Tell Students They Will Know They Are Getting Somewhere When A Scene Is So Painful They Can Just Barely Bring Themselves To Write About It. A Writer Has To Draw Blood.

Whatever You Do, Always Give 100%. Unless You're Donating Blood.

Yeah, I'm A Giver. I've Learned To Be Selective Of The People In My World, Because If I Love Someone, I Will Give Them My Blood, Whatever They Need. In Doing So, One Can End Up With Little Left For Themselves.

Now I Have Shed My First Blood. I Feel No Qualms, No Pride, No Remorse. There Is Only A Weary Indifference That Will Follow Me Throughout The War.

If Boris [johnson] Backtracks On Serious Things There'll Be Another Bloody Revolt.

If You're In A Diabetic Or Prediabetic State, It's Good To Have Medication To Go On For A Period Of Time. But Simply By Making The Changes - Get Your Sleep, 35 Grams Of Fiber And A Half-hour Walk - Your Cholesterol Will Come Down, Your Sugar Will Come Down, And Your Blood Pressure Will Come Down. Only The Minority Of People Can't Control It.

No Candy Bars Unless I've Had A Low Blood Sugar Where I'm Shaky

I Want To Go To College To Study Journalism. I Want To Speak French Fluently, To Travel. My Mom Was A Journalist And It's In My Blood.

You Couldn't Pretend You Had Lost Nothing... You Had To Begin There, Not Let Your Blood Freeze Over. If Your Heart Turned Away At This, It Would Turn Away At Something Greater, Then More And More Until Your Heart Stayed Averted, Immobile, Your Imagination Redistributed Away From The World And Back Only Toward The Bad Maps Of Yourself, The Sour Pools Of Your Own Pulse, Your Own Tiny, Mean, And Pointless Wants.