I've just always been a bit of a dork.
I'm a bit of a P. T. Barnum. I make stars out of everyone.
I think you'll find it's a bit more complicated than that.
When training young horses "There are many types of bits for many different disciplines, but the severity of ALL bits lies in the hands holding them. "
I think it's more funny how every bit of information is up for grabs.
I tend to work in the mornings, then take a few hours off in the afternoon to walk the dog, and then come back and work in the evening. So, if I can remember my pre-dog walking music when I get back then that's fine, I'll kind of commit to those bits, but if I can't remember them I'll just move on to something else.
The followers of Derrida are pathetic, snuffling in French pockets for bits of pieces of a deconstructive method already massively and coherently presented and with a mature sense of the sacred in Buddhism and Hinduism.
I keep threatening to keep a formal journal, but whenever I start one it instantly becomes an exercise in self-consciousness. Instead of a journal I manage to have dozens of notebooks with bits and pieces of stories, poems, and notes. Almost every thing I do has its beginning in a notebook of some sort, usually written on a bus or train.
There's not a strong autobiographical strain in my fiction. A few bits of fact here and there.
I wanted to be a poet. I had a really romantic idea about what that would mean. My parents knew some poets, and I liked how they dressed and acted, but I didn't really acknowledge that I only liked reading some bits of poetry while I was peeing or something.
There's many a good bit o' work done with a sad heart.
And then he tells her stories. Myths he learned from his instructor. Fantasies he created himself, inspired by bits and pieces of others read in archaic books with crackling spines.
It all went a bit grape-shaped.
I was a little bit chubby when I was a kid.
Have the boldness to tell yourself the truth - every bit of it.
It is the little bits of things that fret and worry us; we can dodge a elephant, but we can't dodge a fly.
The magician seemed to promise that something torn to bits might be mended without a seam, that what had vanished might reappear, that a scattered handful of doves or dust might be reunited by a word, that a paper rose consumed by fire could be made to bloom from a pile of ash. But everyone knew that it was only an illusion. The true magic of this broken world lay in the ability of things it contained to vanish, to become so thoroughly lost, that they might never have existed in the first place.
Life always has a bit of a challenge in front of you, and that's what makes you fight for it.
I borrow bits from everyone.
For a taste that's a bit more distinct, eat a bird before it's extinct.