When a pianist sits down and does a virtuoso performance he is in a technical sense transmitting more information to a machine than any other human activity involving machinery allows.
Today I'm out wandering, turning my skull into a cup for others to drink wine from. In this town somewhere there sits a calm, intelligent man, who doesn't know what he's about to do!
Our disappointment sits between us.
This magnificent butterfly finds a little heap of dirt and sits still on it; but man will never on his heap of mud keep still.
My souls sits in silence, and then asks again, where are you in all of this?
Between two stools one sits on the ground.
Conversation never sits easier upon us than when we now and then discharge ourselves in a symphony of laughter, which may not improperly be called the chorus of conversation.
Oh, the summer night, Has a smile of light, And she sits on a sapphire throne.
Economists don't seem to have noticed that the economy sits entirely within the ecology.
Spiffy is a free-loading deadbeat kitty who sits around on my couch, watches TV all day, and eats all the Triscuits.
When we accept our own wild beauty, it is put into perspective, and we are no longer poignantly aware of it anymore, but neither would we forsake it or disclaim it either. Does a wolf know how beautiful she is when she leaps? Does a feline know what beautiful shapes she makes when she sits? Is a bird awed by the sound it hears when it snaps open its wings? Learning from them, we just act in our own true way and do not draw back from or hide our natural beauty. Like the creatures, we just are, and it is right.
Sometimes I sits and thinks, and sometimes I just sits.
Wisdom sits with children round her knees.
Going back to that idea that painting sits still and that we give ourselves over to it over time. There's a difference between living with - imagine if this were sitting in your living room for 15 years. You'd probably understand the contours of it.
Heaven is above all yet; there sits a judge, That no king can corrupt.
A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds; his auditors are as men entranced by the melody of an unseen musician, who feel that they are moved and softened, yet know not whence or why.
God sits enthroned, ready to listen, to help.
The baby sits in front of MTV watching violent fantasies, while Dad guzzles beer with his favorite sport only to find his heroes all coked up.
Every Thanksgiving, Barack sits down to call some of our troops and thank them for their service. When he tells me about these conversations, it always reminds me of how blessed we are to live in a country where men and women will stand up to protect our freedoms and preserve our way of life. And whenever I've had the chance to meet with these heroes and their families, I've always walked away inspired by their courage and in awe of their strength.
If the past sits in judgment on the present, the future will be lost.