As I go about my work as Premier, I know I stand on the shoulders of giants.
I'm more muscular than I was in my younger days. My biceps and shoulders, especially.
Hand that on parting squeezes your shoulder, salutes the small of your back.
When the burden of life becomes heavier, when it starts crushing our shoulders with all its might, it is time to be stronger!
Why do so many of us not give ourselves permission to be alive until we are absolutely assured that we will die?. . . If we are not in [this present millisecond of life and conscious experience], we are not alive; we are merely thinking our lives. Yet we have seen so many die, looking back over their shoulders at their lives, shaking their heads and muttering in bewilderment, "What was that all about?"
I think a lot of cynicism has dropped away from my shoulders since I stopped drinking.
Power is more than the punch. I get so much power and belief in myself from God, and from God the power passes through my legs, through my hips, up to my shoulders, through my arms, and into my fists. . . I'm written to be a legend.
So here's a question from one who believed, only a week ago, that Baghdad might just collapse and that we might wake up one morning to find the Baathist militia and the Iraqi army gone and the Americans walking down Saadun Street with their rifles over their shoulders. If the Iraqis can still hold out against such overwhelming force in Umm Qasr for four days, if they can keep fighting in Basra and Nasiriyah – the latter a city that briefly rose in revolt against Saddam's regime in 1991 – why should Saddam's forces not keep fighting in Baghdad?
It has nothing to do with clothing or makeup. Just put your shoulders back and chin up, and face the world with pride.
I am going to pretend that all life is just a game which I must play as skilfully and fairly as I can. If I lose, I am going to shrug my shoulders and laugh—also if I win.
I have a huge chip on my shoulder.
A woman's sentimental monkeyshines will always deceive her lover, who invariably waxes ecstatic where her husband necessarily shrugs his shoulders.
You're so very naked," she whispered against his shoulder. He smiled into her hair. "So are you.
In general, being independent is so liberating, you get to create without someone looking over your shoulders.
Every time I see David Giuntoli on set, it feels like there's a huge load off his shoulders, because when it's me, it's real and it's flirtatious and it seems like it's way more fun.
He shrugged his shoulders to shift the pain of failure---the pain that is so much greater than the pleasure of success.
Howdy. I'm gonna separate your head from your shoulders. Hope you don't mind none.
[On dishonest business methods:]. . . frequently the defender of the practice falls back on the Christian doctrine of charity, and points out that we are erring mortals and must allow for each other's weaknesses! - an excuse which, if carried to its legitimate conclusion, would leave our business men weeping on one another's shoulders over human frailty, while they picked one another's pockets.
. . . nothing momentous comes in this world unless it comes on the shoulders of kindness.
Modern man is weighed down more by the burden of responsibility than by the burden of sin. We think him more a savior who shoulders our responsibilities than him who shoulders our sins. If instead of making decisions we have but to obey and do our duty, we feel it as a sort of salvation.