Quotes About Control

Buster was Rant was Buddy. Chester was Chet was Dad. Irene was Mom was Reen. How folks lay claim to their loved ones is they give you a name of their own. They figure to label you as their property.

Get out of here, and do your little life, but remember I'm watching you, Raymond Hessel, and I'd rather kill you than see you working a shit job for just enough money to buy cheese and watch television.

Never, ever say the dildo accidentally turned itself on.

Therefore, when we neglect to fear such a brittle monstrosity, we render it powerless.

Every family is a regular little cult.

Where even if someone loves you enough to save your life, they still castrate you.

The bad news is we don't have any con­trol. The good news is you can't make any mis­takes.

Ev­ery last minute of my life has been pre­or­dained, and I'm sick and tired of it.

Full-time drudge. Part-time God.

Churches in the outside world, my brother told me, were just the local stores that sold people lies made up in the distant factories of giant religions.

Throughout history the most powerful rulers have been sex maniacs. And he asks, does their sex appetite come from having power, or does their will for power come from their sex appetite?

Your being born make your parents God. You owe them your life, and they can control you. Then puberty makes you Satan just because you want something better.

In a way, being an addict is very proactive. A good addiction takes the guesswork out of death. There is such a thing as planning your getaway.

The se­cret is to not let your imag­ina­tion get car­ried away.

If she was going to die, Marla didn't want to know about it.

Ten years ago, he was the hard­work­ing salt of the earth. All he want­ed was to go to Heav­en. Sit­ting here to­day, ev­ery­thing that he worked for in the world is lost. All his ex­ter­nal rules and con­trols are gone.

You don't have to con­trol ev­ery­thing," she says. "You can't con­trol ev­ery­thing.

The laws that keep us safe, these same laws condemn us to boredom. Without access to true chaos, we'll never have true peace. Unless everything can get worse, it won't get any better.

Rachel hadn't invented the dangers of toxoplasmosis; she'd gone online and built an airtight case. This wasn't crazy talk. Neurobiologists had linked T. gondii to suicide and the onset of schizophrenia. All caused by exposure to cat poop. Some studies even suggested that the toxo brain parasites chemically coerced people to adopt more cats. Those crazy cat ladies were actually being controlled by an infection of single-cell invaders.

Silence. Give me control. Give me calm. Give me restraint. Flash.

Are you there, Satan? It's me, Madison. My taste for power continues to grow, as does my ability to accrue it.

Finalmente, te quedas atrapado en tu precioso nido y los objetos que poseías ahora te poseen a ti.

My mom would spy by satellite, turning down the air conditioning, colder and colder, with a tapping keystroke via her wireless connection, chilling that house, that one room, meat locker cold, ski-slope cold, spending a king's ransom on Freon and electric power, trying to make some doomed ten bucks' worth of pretty pink flowers last one more day.

And since God can't control us, all God does is watch and change channels when He gets bored.