i'm back at my cliff still throwing things off i listen to the sounds they make on their way down i follow him with my eyes 'till they crash imagine what my body would sound like slamming against those rocks.
I don't mind a crowd's not laughing; it's the groans that slow down the show.
A grass blade believes that men build palaces for it to grow in. Grass wedges its way between the closest blocks of marble and it brings them down. This power of feeble life which can creep in anywhere is greater than that of the mighty behind their cannons.
The Amazons is a stupendous achievement--a long-anticipated centerpiece in the great puzzle of humankind. The story of these forbidden women, silenced for so long by the rigidity of traditional scholarship, is as exciting and surprising as a bestselling murder mystery; I simply couldn't put it down. Through scholarly brilliance and passion, Adrienne Mayor has opened the door to a forgotten world of gender equality, and her book ought to be required reading in every college history course.
From the waist down, Earl Campbell has the biggest legs I have ever seen on a running back.
Shut up, sit down, and read. (Tory) Please? (Acheron) You need something? (Tory) You to be polite to me, Ms. I Own The World- Now Do What I Say You Pathetic Pleb. (Acheron) You don’t strike me as the kind of guy who takes orders anyway. (Tory) Yes, but a simple please goes a long way. I’m the one doing you a favor here. (Acheron) Fine. Please sit down, shut up, and read. (Tory)
I hereby pledge that, if elected to represent the people of South Dakota, I will never vote to shut down their government, or to place their government in default, in order to force it to act, or to prevent it from acting, on unrelated issues.
Catholics have more extreme sex lives because they're taught that pleasure is bad for you. Who thinks it's normal to kneel down to a naked man who's nailed to a cross? It's like a bad leather bar.
The guitar to me, from the classicalgut-string guitar right through to Hendrix, et cetera, has all the range [of sound]. Within those six strings it is incredible what one can get sound-wise. It's just down to imagination, really.
He was just hungry, Papa. He's going to die. He's going to die anyway. He's so scared, Papa. The man squatted and looked at him. I'm scared, he said. Do you understand? I'm scared. The boy didn't answer. He just sat there with his head down, sobbing. You're not the one who has to worry about everything. The boy said something but he couldn't understand him. What? He said. He looked up, his wet and grimy face. Yes I am, he said. I am the one.
If you do not love what you do, if you are not appropriately grateful for the chance to create something magical each time you sit down at the computer or with a pencil and paper in hand, somewhere along the way your writing will betray you.
It is by going down into the abyss that we recover the treasures of life. Where you stumble, there lies your treasure.
You can only avoid responsibility for so long. The catalyst ended up being the law coming down and finally saying, 'You guys suspended judgement and that's fine, because we're not.
Life is simply better when we are with others, and worse when we are isolated. God designed us to be connected, and life breaks down when we are not.
I promised a lot of people I'd slow down when I turned 80.
Everything I think seems to be controversial, so I feel like I need to just go away for a second and put it all down on paper until the storm passes.
You knocked the door down. " Disbelief rang in his matter-of-fact tone. "I know," she answered,unable to say anything else. Unable to look away from his body. "But it's solid oak. " "I know. " She felt the solid oak beneath her and a little shocked that she'd done it, too. If it mattered at all, her shoulder felt a little bruised. And it was the slight pain that brought some reality back into the moment. "You don't have any clothes on. " Oh, God, did she really say that?
I hope that the feeling of making poetry is not confined to the people who write it down. There is no luxury like it, and I hope we all share it. . . . I am sure that the great glory of poetry in one's heart does not wait on achievement.
Ye whose clay-cold heads and luke-warm hearts can argue down or mask your passions--tell me, what trespass is it that man should have them?. . . If nature has so wove her web of kindness, that some threads of love and desire are entangled with the piece--must the whole web be rent in drawing them out?
The distance between the glorified spirits in heaven and the militant saints on earth seems great; but it is not so. We are not far from home. Heaven. . . is just one sigh and we get there. Our departed friends are only in the upper room, as it were, of the same house; they have not gone far off; they are upstairs and we are down below.