If the use of animal food be, in consequence, subversive to the peace of human society, how unwarrantable is the injustice and the barbarity which is exercised toward these miserable victims. They are called into existence by human artifice that they may drag out a short and miserable existence of slavery and disease, that their bodies may be mutilated, their social feelings outraged. It were much better that a sentient being should never have existed, than that it should have existed only to endure unmitigated misery.
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It is the working man who is the happy man. It is the idle man who is the miserable man.
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War is an ugly thing, but not the ugliest of things. The decayed and degraded state of moral and patriotic feeling which thinks that nothing is worth war is much worse. The person who has nothing for which he is willing to fight, nothing which is more important than his own personal safety, is a miserable creature and has no chance of being free unless made and kept so by the exertions of better men than himself.
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Seasons Of Change All it did was rain, but it drowned out my Heart and all it's sorrow, so I'm thankful So deeply indebt and glad, that I'll never See the light of tomorrow. All it did was snow, the bitter cold, and Stiffness, effected me in ways you'll surely Never know. Cause you're better off than I am The wind was unsatiable, and unconquerable so malacious, so unforgiving, so completely Miserable, it reminded me of you. It was so hot and tepid, so incredibly unbearing I thought that I would give up my Long and relently journey for a place without You. But I was wrong, again, as always. Because in the heat of that night, you came To me, with sweat pouring and cries crying. The weather and seasons remind me of you, and Your prolific attempt to bring my spirits down. Kade William Davies Copyright ©2004 Kade William Davies
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Rights! There are no rights whatever without corresponding duties. Look at the history of the growth of our constitution, and you will see that our ancestors never upon any occasion stated, as a ground for claiming any of their privileges, an abstract right inherent in themselves; you will nowhere in our parliamentary records find the miserable sophism of the Rights of Man.
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Yes, I sing songs about relationships on the edge, relationships of all kinds, but remember I did not write them all, ... They are not all based on my experiences. Years ago, I wrote with Dennis Walker and Bruce Bromberg, who were 10 years older and divorced two or three times. They had great senses of humor, which is where lines like 'a boatload of lawyers just sank' came from. It is their stories on Strong Persuader, my breakthrough album from 1986. Sneaking out the window, 'Porch Light,' they are not my songs or lines. So, my life is not as miserable as some of the music makes it out to be. My wife Sue and I have been married for 15 years. She's an actor, but Sue gets the credit she deserves on some of my songs.
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Choose life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family. Choose a fucking big television, choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players, and electrical tin openers. Choose good health, low cholesterol, and dental insurance. Choose fixed-interest mortgage repayments. Choose a starter home. Choose your friends. Choose leisurewear and matching luggage. Choose a three piece suit on hire purchase in a range of fucking fabrics. Choose DIY and wondering who the fuck you are on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing, spirit-crushing game shows, stuffing fucking junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pissing your last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarassment to the selfish, fucked-up brats you have spawned to replace yourself. Choose your future. Choose life. But why would I want to do a thing like that? I chose not to choose life. I chose something else. And the reasons? There are no reasons. Who needs reasons when you've got heroin?
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Who knows what true loneliness is -- not the conventional word, but the naked terror? To the lonely themselves it wears a mask. The most miserable outcast hugs some memory or some illusion. Now and then a fatal conjunction of events may lift the veil for an instant. For an instant only. No human being could bear a steady view of moral solitude without going mad.
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Isn't it true that you start your life a sweet child believing in everything under your father's roof? Then comes the day of the Laodiceans, when you know you are wretched and miserable and poor and blind and naked, and with the visage of a gruesome grieving ghost you go shuddering through nightmare life.
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I like living. I have sometimes been wildly, despairingly, acutely miserable, racked with sorrow, but through it all I still know quite certainty that just to be alive is a grand thing.
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A bachelor's life is a fine breakfast, a flat lunch, and a miserable dinner.
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So long as you don't feel life's paltry and a miserable business, the rest doesn't matter, happiness or unhappiness.
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People want you to be a crazy, out-of-control teen brat. They want you miserable, just like them. They don't want heroes what they want is to see you fall.
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I have sometimes been wildly, despairingly, acutely miserable ... but through it all I still know quite certainly that just to be alive is a grand thing.
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No thoroughly occupied person was ever found really miserable.
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The truth will set you free, but first it will make you miserable.
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Yes, I think it is very clear to all of us who are engaged in the business of assessing toxicity data that, when volumes of data are proudly presented to us after a carcinogenicity study, showing that there was a tumour in this organ or that, we look at it and we scratch our heads, and we wonder what on earth we can make of it. This is especially true when huge doses are given, with nothing to suggest what would be expected at low doses. I think very often the carcinogenicity studies are a waste of everybody's time and a fearful waste of animals. They are conducted partly because we are not sure what to do instead, and partly because they are a political gesture and a very miserable one at that.
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But now, before that new birth take place in the spirit of man, it wants, but knows not what, craves indeterminately (who will shew us any good?) not fixing upon any particular good that is sufficient and finite, and labouring under an ignorance of the infinite, together with a disaffection thereunto. Its wants and cravings are beyond the measure of all finite good; for suppose it to have never so large a share, nay, could it grasp and engross the whole of it, an unsatisfiedness and desire of more would still remain : but that more is somewhat indeterminate and merely imaginary, an infinite nothing, an idol of fancy, a god of its own making. God it must have; but what a one he is, it misapprehends, and, wherein it rightly apprehends him, likes and loves him not, will by no means choose, desire, or take complacency in him. So that an unregenerate soul is, while it is such, necessarily doomed to be miserable. It cannot be happy in any inferior good; and in the supreme, it will not. What the real wants and just cravings of a man's spirit therefore are, is not to be understood by considering it in that state. And if the work of the new creature were perfected in it, it would want and crave no more, but would be satisfied fully, and at perfect rest.
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You cannot go around and keep score. If you keep score on the good things and the bad things, you'll find out that you're a very miserable person. God gave man the ability to forget, which is one of the greatest attributes you have. Because if you remember everything that's happened to you, you generally remember that which is the most unfortunate.
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If, Sir, I possessed the power of conveying unlimited sexual attraction through the potency of my voice, I would not be reduced to accepting a miserable pittance from the BBC for interviewing a faded female in a damp basement.
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But this is the second work of the law when it hath by its convictions brought the sinner into a condition of a sense of guilt which he cannot avoid, -- nor will anything tender him relief, which way so ever he lose, for he is in a desert, -- it represents unto him the holiness and severity of God, with his indignation and wrath against sin which have a resemblance of a consuming fire. This fills his heart with dread and terror and makes him see his miserable, undone condition.
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Choose life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family. Choose a fucking big television. Choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players and electrical tin openers..... Choose DIY and wondering who the fuck you are on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind numbing, spirit crushing game shows, stuffing junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pissing your last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked-up brats you spawned to replace yourself. Choose your future. Choose life..... But why would I want to do a thing like that?
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It's just that I have this funny objection to torturing small animals no matter how scrumptious their body parts might be. ... Our food industries are equal opportunity abusers: cows, chickens, pigs, and a special mention to those little calves who for their short, miserable lives are locked into crates too small to allow movement just so we can eat veal.
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Be miserable. Or motivate yourself. Whatever has to be done, it's always your choice.
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It isn’t the people you fire who make your life miserable, it’s the people you don’t.
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Not with blinded eyesight poring over miserable books.
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It may be vain to ask why the imagination will not be reconciled to flesh and fat. I am satisfied that it is not. Is it not a reproach that man is a carnivorous animal? True, he can and does live, in a great measure, by preying on other animals; but this is a miserable way - as anyone who will go to snaring rabbits, or slaughtering lambs, may learn - and he will be regarded as a benefactor of his race who shall teach man to confine himself to a more innocent and wholesome diet.
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A man's subconscious self is not the ideal companion. It lurks for the greater part of his life in some dark den of its own, hidden away, and emerges only to taunt and deride and increase the misery of a miserable hour.
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They wouldn't be heroes if they were infallible, in fact they wouldn't be heroes if they weren't miserable wretched dogs, the pariahs of the earth, besides which the only reason to build up an idol is to tear it down again.
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What do you gain, Soviet Union, from this miserable policy Where is your decency Would it be a disgrace for you to give up this battle (On suppression of freedom for Jews in the USSR)
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