To make a poem, take one newspaper, one pair of scissors, snip the words one by one and put them in a bag. Shake gently, draw them out at random, and copy them conscientiously. . . DADA est mort. DADA est idiot. Vive DADA!
I'm an ugly girl, My face makes you hurl, Sad I have it, I should bag it. Acne everywhere, Unwanted facial hair. I'm a relation to Frankenstein's creation.
Money doesn't buy elegance. You can take an inexpensive sheath, add a pretty scarf, gray shoes, and a wonderful bag, and it will always be elegant.
I am attracted to generic or 'industrial' colours; paper bag brown, file cabinet gray, industrial green, that kind of thing.
My definition of a redundancy is an air-bag in a politician's car.
My bag is approaching something and taking it to another place. Like words-you take a word and by the time you've finished with it, you milk it and you go through the emotion of what it is, what it means there and then.
Hefty? I'd railed to Peter, waving the clipping for emphasis. Hefty? For the record 'Hefty' is a trash bag. I'm festively plump.
If we have any hope of finding ways for seven billion people to live well on planet with finite resources, we have to learn to use our resources efficiently. Plastic bags are neither efficient nor environmentally friendly.
We are not all connected. We are bags of skin. We are all separate bags of thinking skin.
I started getting orders from some of the leading stores Fred Segal, Bergdorf Goodman. I realized then that my bags were being noticed by the fashion world.
The man's got more money than God, and he sends you a bag of coffee?
All the birds love Touche Eclat. It's a (concealer) pen that gets rid of eye bags. But I'm quite happy otherwise. I train a lot.
It seems like the millennial generation is a little bit of a cultural punching bag.
OK, here's a little bedroom tip: Put a bag of popcorn in the microwave beforehand. That way when you're done, you have a treat.
i am going to start selling air in dark orange bags marked: moon-blooms
Coming into Los Angeles, bringing in a couple of keys. Don't touch my bags, if you please Mr. Customs man.
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.
People don't throw your bags out of windows because of lies; they throw them out because of the truth.
Never have a club in your bag that you're afraid to hit.
Plastic bags are bad and for the most part unnecessary.