I feel I should do everything I can to make a difference in Haiti. My main goal to help the people of Haiti is to give them homes, food, and jobs. It is heartbreaking to see little children sleeping on the ground in tents made of trash bags. I hope that we can put an end to this type of poverty not only in Haiti, but in the entire world.

I like to wear shoes that are cool but also practical. The same goes for bags. Your bag is a big deal in New York. You can't just carry around a little clutch, because you don't have a car or anywhere to stash things during the day, so you need to carry your whole life with you. That's why I like big, chunky bags with lots of compartments.

Bad acting comes in many bags, various odors. It can be performed by cardboard refugees from an Ed Wood movie, reciting their dialogue off an eye chart, or by hopped-up pros looking to punch a hole through the fourth wall from pure ballistic force of personality, like Joe Pesci in a bad mood. I can respect bad acting that owns its own style.

Logan, why aren't you wearing protection?" The radio crackled, and then came Logan's voice. "I have 'protection' in my bag," he said. "But as much as I don't want to say this, darlin', now's not the time to be asking if I'm carrying condoms. I have problems." "A life vest, Logan! I'm asking where's your life vest!" "Oh," he said. "I knew that.

If you find your truth you must follow it. You could find it in a paper bag, or in a statue, or in a slaughterhouse; you might find it dangling somewhere. People might say, What the heck are you doing? but its ok if they dont understand. And if you follow it, stay true to it, and respect it, you could be in store for the greatest journey you could ever imagine.

My plan to put Social Security in an ironclad lockbox has gotten a lot of attention recently, and I'm glad about that. But I'm afraid that it's overshadowing some vitally important proposals. For instance, I'll put Medicaid in a walk-in closet. I'll put the Community Reinvestment Act in a secured gym locker. I'll put NASA funding in a hermetically sealed Ziploc bag.

She got under the covers and put her arms around the bag. She could smell Tibby. It used to be she couldn't smell Tibby's smell in the way you couldn't smell your own; it was too familiar. But tonight she could. This was some living part of Tibby still here and she held on to it. There was more of Tibby with her here and now than in what she had seen in the cold basement room that day.

Boys are like purses. You're always gonna have that one boy that you're always comfortable with and you know you'll always kind of like. That's your purse that you wear everywhere. Then you have that gorgeous bag that you want everyone to see you with but the gorgeous bag is usually an asshole or costs a lot of money. Then you have those other purses that you really like but you really don't want to be seen with

One isn't born with courage. One develops it by doing small courageous things-in the way that if one sets out to pick up a 100-pound bag of rice, one would be advised to start with a five-pound bag, then 10 pounds, then 20 pounds, and so forth, until one builds up enough muscle to lift the 100-pound bag. It's the same way with courage. You do small courageous things that require some mental and spiritual exertion.

I've traveled everywhere, and it's been amazing. I used to think taking a flight was kind of a big deal, you know? I'm from the valleys of South Wales and when my family used to go on holiday, it was a big thing. Packing the bags, checking in, not losing your passport, going through customs, the X-ray machine, all that stuff used to be quite an intense thing. Now it's like catching a bus, I don't even think about it.

Kaia tossed Strider a shut-your-mouth frown before bouncing in her seat. "Do I get to help? Can I? You may not know this, but I'm very handy with a blade of any kind, a hacksaw, a whip, a-" "Hey! Someone went through my bag," William said. "So?" Kaia continued, as if William hadn't spoken. "Whatever the weapon, I'm good with it." He would not be impressed. "We won't be using weapons. We'll be smashing jugulars." "Oh, oh! We can play Who Can Smash More!" "No, we can't because you can't help," Stider said at the same time William blurted out, "I'd be disappointed if you didn't help.

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