Beneath this slab John Brown is stowed. He watched the ads, And not the road.
I did an episode of The Profiler. I actually worked on the last episode of Murphy Brown.
tanith: have you called the police? fergus: they, uh, they said theyd call by this afternoon. tanith: tell them not to bother. . . im his doctor. beryl: what kind of doctor dresses in brown leather? tanith: the kind that looks good init
She said to the Daisy girl with her big brown eyes: 'I will not have it plain. No. Fancy. It must be fancy!' She meant her future. A moon-daisy dropped to the floor, down from her hair, like a faintly derisive sign from heaven.
We got a little rule back home: If it's brown, drink it down. If it's black, send it back.
I need to be the best Chris Brown I can be.
Young Michael Brown is still somewhat of a wild-child, with the ill behaviour, with the ill behaviour!!
My dream as a child was to play with a bass player like Ray Brown, who played with the Oscar Peterson Trio. The feeling I had listening to his work was almost carnal, so to actually play for him was earth-shattering for me.
My work may feature brown faces but it could be anybody's story.
There was a bidding war between Epic Records and Jive - now RCA - which was bittersweet. Just having labels bid over me was really cool, but I ended up going with Jive because it felt better over there, and they have my favorite artists like Usher, Chris Brown, and Justin Timberlake.
You know, I've always told him (Larry Brown) I wanted the relationship that Michael Jackson. . . Michael Jordan, I'm sorry. . . . I wanted the same relationship with him like Phil Jackson and Michael Jordan had.
When my woman kisses me I start dancing like James Brown. Ow! I Feel Good!
Bobby Brown reminds me of a fellow who's been hitting for 12 years and fielding one.
I didn't know anything about Opus Die except from pop culture, like Dan Brown novels, which I knew wasn't really knowing anything about Opus Die.
Oh, good gigantic smile o' the brown old earth, This autumn morning! How he sets his bones To bask i' the sun, and thrusts out knees and feet. From the ripple to run over in its mirth
I'm not James Brown. I'm not Sam Cooke. I'm Charley Pride. I'm just me and that's what you got.
I do not know much about gods; but I think that the river Is a strong brown god-sullen, untamed and intractable.
Now I am quietly waiting for the catastrophe of my personality to seem beautiful again, and interesting, and modern. The country is grey and brown and white in trees, snows and skies of laughter always diminishing, less funny not just darker, not just grey. It may be the coldest day of the year, what does he think of that? I mean, what do I? And if I do, perhaps I am myself again.
And don't forget, Sherrod Brown is black. There's a racial component here, too. And now, the newspaper that I'm reading all this from is The New York Times, and they, of course, don't mention that.
I met this cowboy with a brown paper hat, paper waistcoat and paper trousers. He was wanted for rustling.