I'm afraid I am a bit of a technophobe - a nineteenth-century man caught in the twenty-first century. But there is one piece of technology that I would especially welcome: a device to automatically balance restaurant tables on all four legs so that they don't rock back and forth.
As the humanities and liberal arts are downsized, privatized, and commodified, higher education finds itself caught in the paradox of claiming to invest in the future of young people while offering them few intellectual, civic, and moral supports.
I think everybody gets caught up in superstitions. But I don't put much stock in them ... knock on wood.
In Peru, if you gave somebody a little chance to do something, they took it to the furthest extent. They took nothing for granted. And here in L.A., you kind of get caught up in your own little dilemmas and your own little life.
I caught hold of the great bull market in soybeans in 1977. I had no idea what I was doing, incidentally.
It's one thing to say don't commit atrocities on the battlefield. It's another thing to say don't get caught doing atrocities.
I will tell you the secret: God has had all that there was of me. There have been men with greater brains than I, even with greater opportunities, but from the day I got the poor of London on my heart and caught a vision of what Jesus Christ could do with me and them, on that day I made up my mind that God should have all of William Booth there was. And if there is anything of power in the Salvation Army, it is because God has had all the adoration of my heart, all the power of my will, and all the influence of my life.
Trade on the Internet is becoming very widespread. The problem is our laws have not caught up with electronic commerce.
To me, the most worrisome part of traveling comes before any of the traveling actually occurs: the suitcase-packing process. It's a challenging and anxiety-filled process - I am caught between wanting my suitcase to be light and worrying I am going to need every single item in my bedroom.
A new breed of ministers is rising up who will not wear out for the gospel. They are so caught up in passion, unity, and fullness that they run out and say, “World, here I come!” If they go into places where they get shot at, they are thrilled. If they do not get shot at, they are thrilled. If the place they go is filthy, they are thrilled. If it is clean, they are thrilled. Jesus is the joy set before them. He is their exceedingly great reward.
Juggling is an illusion. ... In reality, the balls are being independently caught and thrown in rapid succession. ... It is actually task switching.
When it is perceived that a show has gone awry, the pressure is staggering, and as a writer caught in that storm, it feels like you are being attacked by jackals.
I have moments where I miss my old self. But I think anyone can get caught up in what we used to have. But at the same time, we can choose to focus on the beauty of now.
The air came laden with the fragrance it caught upon its way, and the bees, upborne upon its scented breath, hummed forth their drowsy satisfaction as they floated by.
On summer evenings, when every flower, and tree, and bird, might have better addressed my soft young heart, I have in my day been caught in the palm of a female hand by the crown, have been violently scrubbed from the neck to the roots of the hair as a purification for the Temple, and have then been carried off highly charged with saponaceous electricity, to be steamed like a potato in the unventilated breath of the powerful Boanerges Boiler and his congregation, until what small mind I had, was quite steamed out of me
Despite a lifetime of service to the cause of sexual liberation, I have never caught venereal disease, which makes me feel rather like an Arctic explorer who has never had frostbite.
Daddy had a farm - cows, pigs, OK, a big garden, OK? We did live off the land, and then we would supplement all that with whatever we could kill or catch. Whether we'd kill squirrels, deer, duck, or caught catfish or brim, that was what went on the table.
Jimmy Kimmel still comes across like a guy who crashed a party and got caught at it, yet adamantly refuses to leave.
If I tell you my character has grey hair, you will not see her. If I tell you she has a tiny scar at the upper left corner of her lip from which protrudes one grey whisker—you will make up the rest of her face with absolute clarity. If I tell you my character is waiting in a car, you won’t be ‘caught,’ but if I tell you he pushes his fingers down in the crack of the car seat where the ancient leather has pulled away from the seat frame, and pulls up a small coin purse with a faded note in it—you will be mine.
Anybody hear the great news, today? Jimmy Swaggart under investigation! Oh Ja-eezus! One day every one of those cocksuckers will get caught! I understand in the case of Mr. Swaggart, that he claims that it was not multiple encounters with many prostitutes - apparently, only one sweet young thing. And he did tell Cal Thomas of the Moral Majority that the sex act itself was not fully consumated. However he did admit to doing something por-no-graphic with the girl. Let's use our imaginations, ladies and gentlemen.
The highs and lows of show business is a rollercoaster for sure. There's so many highs, there's just moments of your life where you go, "Wow I can't believe how insanely lucky I am," and then you can turn around and the next moment feel so completely caught up in your own wanting, and desiring, and needing and feel like somehow you're missing something. It's just higher the high, the lower the low.
The philosopher caught in the nets of language.
In every philosophical school, three thinkers succeed one another in the following way: the first produces out of himself the sapand seed, the second draws it out into threads and spins a synthetic web, and the third waits in this web for the sacrificial victims that are caught in it--and tries to live off philosophy.
If only people would realize that moral principles are like measles.... They have to be caught. And only the people who've got them can pass on the contagion.
Much verse fails of being poetry because it was not written exactly at the right crisis, though it may have been inconceivably near to it. It is only by a miracle that poetry is written at all. It is not recoverable thought, but a hue caught from a vaster receding thought.
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