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Please, i don't want anybody to think i'm starving, i'm not. my health is perfect, actually.

-Michael Jackson

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Please, I Don't Want Anybody To Think

Michael Jackson

Please, i don't want anybody to think i'm starving, i'm not. my health is perfect, actually.

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<blockquote style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; border-left: 4px solid #8b5cf6; padding-left: 15px; margin: 20px 0; background: #f9f9f9; padding: 15px; border-radius: 4px; color: #333;">
    <p style="font-size: 1.2rem; font-style: italic; margin-bottom: 10px;">"please, i don&#039;t want anybody to think i&#039;m starving, i&#039;m not. my health is perfect, actually."</p>
    <footer style="font-size: 1rem; font-weight: bold;">— Michael Jackson</footer>
    <p style="margin-top: 15px; font-size: 0.85rem;"><a href="https://pjdigitalmarketing.com/quote/please-i-dont-want-anybody-to-think-im-starving-im-not-my-f3y0c" style="color: #8b5cf6; text-decoration: none;">View this quote on Pjdigitalmarketing.com</a></p>
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Thinking Perfect Want

More From Michael Jackson

Would you please please please please please please please stop talking?

I tried to concentrate on the angel's voice instead. "bella, please! bella, listen to me, please, please, please, bella, please!" he begged. yes, i wanted to say. anything. but i couldn't find my lips. "carlisle!" the angel called, agony in his perfect voice. "bella, bella, no, oh please, no, no!" and the angel was sobbing tearless, broken sobs. the angel shouldn't weep, it was wrong. i tried to find him, to tell him everything was fine, but the water was so deep, it was pressing on me, and i couldn't breathe.

We wouldnt ever eat anybody, would we? no. of course not. even if we were starving? we're starving now. you said we werent. i said we werent dying. i didnt say we werent starving. but we wouldnt. no. we wouldnt. no matter what. no. no matter what. because we're the good guys. yes. and we're carrying the fire. and we're carrying the fire. yes. okay.

There's a wonderful old italian joke about a poor man who goes to church every day and prays before the statue of a great saint,'dear saint-please, please, please...give me the grace to win the lottery.' this lament goes on for months. finally the exasperated statue come to life, looks down at the begging man and says in weary disgust,'my son-please, please, please...buy a ticket.

Please don't take him away from this world. please don't let him die here in my arms, not after everything we've been through together, not after you've taken so many others. please, i beg you, let him live. i am willing to sacrifice anything to make this happen- i'm willing to do anything you ask. maybe you'll laugh at me for such a naive promise, but i mean it in earnest, and i don't care if it makes no sense or seems impossible. let him live. please. i can't bear this a second time. tell me there is still good in this world. tell me there is still hope for all of us.

Hey, sweet. please open your eyes, livia. open your eyes and see what you did. i’m actually sitting here without grimacing. there’s no pain at all. but you know that, don’t you? i don’t know why you stayed with me. god knows, i wasn’t worth it. but i don’t want you to leave me alone anymore. i need you, livia. i can’t live without you in my life. i can’t…i’m not that strong. please open your eyes and look at me. please. (adron)

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