I am not a great French woman. George Sand, Marguerite Duras and Simone de Beauvoir are great French women.
Our Constitution was not written in the sands to be washed away by each wave of new judges blown in by each successive political wind.
On vacations: We hit the sunny beaches where we occupy ourselves keeping the sun off our skin, the saltwater off our bodies, and the sand out of our belongings.
Incredibly, almost every hotel I ever played in Vegas was blown up shortly afterward: The Dunes, The Sands, The Landmark, The Aladdin, The Frontier, The Hacienda, The Stardust - all were imploded.
Please don't ask me to do that which I've just said I'm not going to do, because you're burning up time. The meter is running through the sand on you, and I am now filibustering.
While it is well enough to leave footprints on the sands of time, it is even more important to make sure they point in a commendable direction.
Like the sand and the oyster, it's a creative irritant. In each poem, I'm trying to reveal a truth, so it can't have a fictional beginning.
Sometimes you get politicians who dig their feet into the sand and aren't willing to listen to another voice.
Harbour Island in the Bahamas is beautiful, with turquoise water and pink sand.
As countless as grains of sand by the sea are human passions, and they all differ; all of them, vile or lofty, begin by being under a man's control and then become his terrible masters. Blessed is he who has chosen the most lofty of passions: his immeasurable bliss grows and multiplies tenfold with every hour and minute, and he penetrates deeper and deeper into the infinite paradise of his soul.
Actually I think Art lies in both directions - the broad strokes, big picture but on the other hand the minute examination of the apparently mundane. Seeing the whole world in a grain of sand, that kind of thing.
Even Castles made of sand, fall into the sea, eventually.
The irony of environmental opposition to the Keystone XL project is that stopping the pipeline to the U.S. will not stop production in the oil sands of Canada. Instead of coming to the United States, the oil will still be produced and shipped by rail or a pipeline similar to the Keystone XL to Canada's Pacific Coast.
Put three grains of sand inside a vast cathedral, and the cathedral will be more closely packed with sand than space is with stars.
With their souls of patent leather, they come down the road. Hunched and nocturnal, where they breathe they impose, silence of dark rubber, and fear of fine sand.
I love being outdoors, playing beach tennis, going for runs in the sand, or doing a three-hour hike with my best girlfriend, Mieko.
Sometimes you have got to look at things really positively - without putting your head in the sand, you have got to manage the negatives and keep putting a positive slant on it, keep trying to find answers.
If you look at the various strategies available for dealing with a new technology, sticking your head in the sand is not the most plausible strategy.
They defended the grains of sand in the desert to the last drop of their blood.
I will not be a common man. I will stir the smooth sands of monotony.
I developed my training routine going into my senior year at Jackson State. I found this sandbank by the Pearl River near my hometown, Columbia, Miss. I laid out a course of 65 yards or so. Sixty-five yards on sand is like 120 on turf, but running on sand helps you make your cuts at full speed.
I'm just saying it's not all sand castles and ninjas.
And I will look down and see my murmuring bones and the deep water like wind, like a roof of wind, and after a long time they cannot distinguish even bones upon the lonely and inviolate sand.
There is a perennial classical question that asks which part of the motorcycle, which grain of sand in which pile, is the Buddha. Obviously to ask that question is to look in the wrong direction, for the Buddha is everywhere. But just as obviously to ask the question is to look in the right direction, for the Buddha is everwhere.
it's so easy to get lost inside a problem that seems so big at the time it's like a river a that's so wide it swallows you whole while your sittin round thinkin 'bout what you can't change and worrying about all the wrong things times flying by moving so fast you better use it all cause you can't get it back sometimes that mountain you've been climbing is just a grain of sand and what you've been out there searching for forever is in your hands ooooo when you figure out love is all that matters after all it sure makes everything else seem so small.
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