Tohru, Tohru. You’ve got a fever again. You don’t have to push yourself so hard. You don’t have do things the way I did. You can just be yourself, do things your own way, one step at a time. You’ll get there, I promise. Just be yourself, you’ll be fine.

Believe and act as if it were impossible to fail. It’s just a matter of time and your dreams will be realized.

Start by doing what’s necessary; then do what’s possible; and suddenly you are doing the impossible.

But not forgiving yourself often becomes the root of severe self-loathing extreme self hatred and intense inhibitions. It will be next to impossible to truly

You can’t climb out of a hole if you keep digging it more profound.

Restart is impossible without shutdown.

God is always in control. He never makes mistakes, and you can never be disappointed in God.

However, I can’t be happy. I feel I can’t have that experience, I can’t assume I will have that experience. I’m free, but feeling lonely

I’ve been wondering. How are things going with that wager we made? Go on, admit it. You can’t beat him. And you never will. It’s

It can’t be good for the table.

How can you break a car seat? It’s impossible!

Finding closure can be one of the most important challenges in dealing with grief. For some, there is no closure.

Without God’s will, even a simple thing as getting out of bed can become an instant impossibility.

I finally found something that can stop the fox. The fox cannot summit Strawberry Hill.

You’ll never make the six.

I can’t look at you without wanting to kiss you.

You can drink yourself to sleep but not think yourself to sleep.

Your dreams may seem impossible to someone with insomnia.

When you go ahead it’s special when it was impossible.

I love you more than I have ever found a way to say to you.

I love you is not enough to describe my feelings for you.

Trying to explain how much I love you is like trying to count the stars. You can try, but it’s impossible.

I wish I could explain your eyes And how the sound of your voice gives me butterflies
How your smile makes my heart skip a beat
And

Everything you do is a source of joy for me. I can never be sad when I’m around you. Thanks for truly being there baby, I love you.

Your beauty overwhelms me and no words can describe that.

Imagining a life without you is something that is impossible, you make me complete and I want you to know you mean everything to me.

No one talked for a minute, and then Takumi asked, “Your dad blamed you?”

“Well, not after that first moment. But yeah. How could he not?”

There’s no such thing as a completely fresh start. Everything new arrives on the heels of something old, and every new beginning comes at the cost of an ending.

People, who keep a record of the wrongs, can never start over fresh.

“No,” I said. And maybe it was only because Alaska couldn’t hit the brakes and I couldn’t hit the accelerator.

The Colonel and I are walking back to our dorm room in silence. I am staring at the ground beneath me. I cannot stop thinking that she is dead, and I cannot stop thinking that she cannot possibly be dead. People do not just die. I can’t catch my breath.

It may seem impossible to find someone else after you’ve been hurt so badly, but once you find them, they’ll be worth every tear.

It is impossible for you to go on as you were before, so you must go on as you never have.

You cannot outwork God or impress Him. He is always in control of your life, and He will deal with whatever you bring to His table, He’ll take care of everything.

It is impossible to live without failing at something, unless you live so cautiously that you might as well not have lived at all, in which case you have failed by default.

I’m the motherfucking fox, no one can catch the fox.

“You can fight with me,” I said. I put my controller down and leaned back on our foam couch and was asleep. As I drifted off, I heard the Colonel say, “I can’t be mad at you, you harmless skinny bastard.”

This mystery can’t be solved. We have to live with that for the rest of our lives.

I, on the other hand……I was born in the Sohma Compound and have lived here all my life. Life outside these walls…is a complete mystery to me……but I…now that I’ve…reached this age, it’s too late. I’ve spent…forty years…fifty years…sixty years…building my life here. It’s too late for me to change it now. I can’t change it. I…I’m…just…too old…for this…It’s impossible…for me to change…everything…

And looking at them Jesus said to them, ‘with people this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.’

For nothing will be impossible with God.

But once He has made His decision, who can change His mind? Whatever He wants to do, He does.

There’s a great blunder which we commit. Through communication, we try to control people… The fact is that nobody can control anybody. All you can do is flow. You can flow with each other, like rivers and streams flow with each other and they all end up in the same ocean. All things come from God and all things go to God. It’s a very simple formula which you have learned.

I bet you’ve never seen a pig fly. Well, you aren’t been looking through my eyes.

I am possible. Nothing for me is impossible.

It may look impossible, but God can do the impossible. Just because you don’t see anything happening doesn’t mean God is not working.

You can’t climb uphill by thinking downhill thoughts.

It’s better to end something and start another than to imprison yourself in hoping for the impossible.

God made it impossible to be anything other than what I am.

A barber does not shave himself.

Driving is like an addiction; once you start, it’s hard to stop.

You can never have too many tires or too much horsepower.

Can’t drive all night.

I can’t change it, That was God’s plan for my life and I’m going to go with it.

Mousa: This is Afghanistan… Alexander the Great try to conquer this country… then Genghis Khan, then the British. Now Russia. But Afghan people fight hard, they never be defeated. Ancient enemy make prayer about these people… you wish to hear?
Rambo: Um-hum.
Mousa: Very good. It says, ‘May God deliver us from the venom of the Cobra, teeth of the tiger, and the vengeance of the Afghan.’ Understand what this means?
Rambo: That you guys don’t take any shit?
Mousa: Yes… something like this.

Zaysen: Drop the weapons! Now! You have no chance of escape! Come forward! I wish to take you back alive! This is your last warning! The choice is yours!
Trautman: What do you say, John?
Rambo: Fuck ’em!

I still did not know her as I wanted to, but I never could. She made it impossible for me. And the accicide, the suident, would never be anything else, and I was left to ask, Did I help you toward a fate you didn’t want, Alaska, or did I just assist in your willful self-destruction? Because they are different crimes, and I didn’t know whether to feel angry at her for making me part of her suicide or just to feel angry at myself for letting her go.

Silence is one of the hardest arguments to refute.

If you can park and not look back as you walk away. You bought the wrong truck.

I hadn’t slept for seven nights.

My mother told me I must have slept, it was impossible not to sleep in all that time, but if I slept, it was with my eyes wide open, for I had followed the green, luminous course of the second hand and the minute hand and the hour hand of the bedside clock through their circles and semi-circles, every night for seven nights, without missing a second, or a minute, or an hour.

The reason I hadn’t washed my clothes or my hair was because it seemed so silly.

I saw the days of the year stretching ahead like a series of bright, white boxes, and separating one box from another was sleep, like a black shade. Only for me, the long perspective of shades that set off one box from the next had suddenly snapped up, and I could see day after day after day glaring ahead of me like a white, broad, infinitely desolate avenue.

It seemed silly to wash one day when I would only have to wash again the next.

It made me tired just to think of it.

I wanted to do everything once and for all and be through with it.

But [Pooh] couldn’t sleep. The more he tried to sleep the more he couldn’t. He tried counting Sheep, which is sometimes a good way of getting to sleep, and, as that was no good, he tried counting Heffalumps. And that was worse. Because every Heffalump that he counted was making straight for a pot of Pooh’s honey, and eating it all. For some minutes he lay there miserably, but when the five hundred and eighty-seventh Heffalump was licking its jaws, and saying to itself, “Very good honey this, I don’t know when I’ve tasted better,” Pooh could bear it no longer.

When it becomes really impossible to get away and sleep, then the will to live evaporates of its own accord.

Impossible to spend sleepless nights and accomplish anything: if, in my youth, my parents had not financed my insomnias, I should surely have killed myself.

I would never sleep. I knew that. Not with my blood ringing in my ears, and my heart beating an angry staccato rhythm in my chest. I would never relax.

It was impossible to sleep. Anxiety stopped me from falling asleep; depression woke me up.

Right now, our model is the culture of exhaustion. We need to be exhausted before we can fall asleep, so we keep pushing and pushing ourselves. But if a society can’t rest, how can it sleep?

Neal: What’s the flight situation?
Del: Simple. There’s no way on earth we’re going to get out of here tonight. We’d have more luck playing pickup sticks with our butt-cheeks than we will getting a flight out of here before daybreak.
Neal: I guess we’ll find out soon enough.
Del: Yeah, but by the time the airline cancels this flight, which they will sooner or later, you’d have more of a chance to find a three-legged ballerina than you would a hotel room.
Neal: Are you saying I could be *stuck* in Wichita?
Del: I’m saying you *are* stuck in Wichita.

Six bucks and my right nut says we’re not landing in Chicago.

Owen: I’m to drive you to Wichita to catch a train?
Del: Yeah, we’d appreciate it.
Owen: Train don’t run out of Wichita… unlessin’ you’re a hog or a cattle. People train runs out of Stubbville.

And because I believe I deserve that much; I can’t settle for less.

You cannot get a haircut without bowing your head to a barber.

A barber cannot use his skills on himself.

A barber can’t stay quiet while cutting someone’s hair.

You never say and do the things you wish you had said or done when someone close to you may not be around in awhile. Closure is impossible; that’s the heart of the grief you will carry with you for the rest of your life.

The English have no respect for their language, and will not teach their children to speak it. They spell it so abominably that no man can teach himself what it sounds like. It is impossible for an Englishman to open his mouth without making some other Englishman hate or despise him.

Propose to an Englishman any principle, or any instrument, however admirable, and you will observe that the whole effort of the English mind is directed to find a difficulty, a defect, or an impossibility in it. If you speak to him of a machine for peeling a potato, he will pronounce it impossible: if you peel a potato with it before his eyes, he will declare it useless, because it will not slice a pineapple.

People tell me I should be finding “closure” in my grief, but that’s a misconception. My love and grief will never end. I will never fully close the door on my loss.

You want a storybook kind of closure with someone when they die, but I think that kind of thing is impossible.

…closure, that impossible thing that no one had ever experienced in life, because there always seemed to be a little aperture, a slit of light.

I think it impossible, utterly impossible, for any Englishman to live here [in America], and be happy.