Surely people can now see that it is no accident that he, Obama, sat at the feet of the Rev. Jeremiah Wright for 20 years, that he is mother was a leftist activist and cultural Marxist, that his main early mentor was radical Frank Marshall Davis, that he was a member of the far-left New Party in Chicago, that his main vocation in life has been street organizing and agitation and that he didn't think the revolutionarily, transformative Warren court was liberal enough.
The president and I sat down in the Oval Office, and he expressed very clearly that what he wants from me is my best professional military advice.
I don't like talk and I don't like talkers. Like Ma Barker. That's what she always said, 'Ma Barker doesn't like talk and she doesn't like talkers. ' She just sat there with her gun.
Ezekiel says this, though, he's - God said to the prophet, he said I'm going to cause you to sit where they've sat.
I prefer a much looser style. Any time a writer thinks he has all the answers to how someone should talk or react or end a scene, it's a spontaneity - killer. I don't get making sure you get every word right in some stupid speech just because a writer sat there and did it.
I had build up false pictures in my mind and sat before them. I had never had the courage to demand the truth.
If Rosa Parks had taken a poll before she sat down in the bus in Montgomery, she'd still be standing.
She sat in her room on the couch my parents had given up on and worked on hardening herself. Take deep breaths and hold them. Try to stay still for longer and longer periods of time. Make yourself small and like a stone. Curl the edges of yourself up and fold them under where no one can see. ~pg 29, Susie's sister Lindsey dealing with grief.
Mama's love had always been the kind that acted itself out with soup pot and sewing basket. But now that these things were taken away, the love seemed as whole as before. She sat in her chair at the window and loved us. She loved the people she saw in the street-- and beyond: her love took in the city, the land of Holland, the world. And so I learned that love is larger than the walls which shut it in.
I almost never slept deeply anymore--as soon as she said my name, I always sat up immediately, no matter how tired I was.
There was my name up in lights. I said, 'God, somebody's made a mistake. ' But there it was, in lights. And I sat there and said, 'Remember, you're not a star. ' Yet there it was up in lights.
They sat on a park bench, held hands, and told each other their stories hour after hour. They were not lonely anymore. They had found and been found by their 100% perfect other. What a wonderful thing it is to find and be found by your 100% perfect other. It's a miracle, a cosmic miracle.
I met my first turkey at an animal sanctuary in 2000. The sanctuary owner brought out a turkey named Olivia who had been rescued from a factory farm. As I sat on the grass and reached out to pet her, she climbed into my lap and fell asleep. I was flabbergasted and charmed.
Whenever I sat down to write something it was never anything I took lightly. It was something that I'd want you, somebody in Japan, and somebody [over there to hear it].
Usually when I sat down to draw a cartoon, it would be more of a reflection of things in my past. Or it could be something I had experienced that morning, or that week, or something I might know that's part of my background.
Time," the Captain said, "is not what you think. " He sat down next to Eddie. "Dying? Not the end of everything. We think it is. But what happens on earth is only the beginning.
There came this point where I sat down with all my notebooks and I had to start to write, when I thought: this whole notion of writing for the person who understands nothing, the average reader. . . He has to die! I can't have him in my head. And so the person I started writing for was the homicide detective.
Among the most striking things that I have learned is how much we have in common. I've sat down with people everywhere, discussing what was in their hearts and on their minds. And it doesn't take long to find commonality, which is often overlooked, ignored, dismissed, and rejected otherwise.
Slash sat me down at his house and said, You've got to clean up your act. You know you've gone too far when Slash is saying, Look, you've got to get into rehab.
She sat keenly white and still among them, a witness to everything--maybe determining nothing, possibly judging it all.