If you can't share what's important to you with the people around you, then you have no relationships. It's all just proximity, and turkey, and sports, and weather, and bullshit.
I love England from head to toe. I love the weather, the people. I was there in the summer and it was nice. The people are so groovy.
Nothing works perfectly. The weather doesn't work perfectly. Because of sin in the world, nothing works perfectly. But in spite of that we can find comfort. We can find strength.
A glamazon is someone who's taken a love of beauty and life and listen, depending on the weather or how my blood sugar at any time, I can be more outspoken than other times, but it's a conscious decision to live life with a fierce determination.
I always keep my weather eye on the opposition of my seventh house Moon to my first house Mars.
To a child all weather is cold.
Never open a book with weather. There are exceptions. If you happen to be Barry Lopez, who has more ways to describe ice and snow than an Eskimo, you can do all the weather reporting you want.
Horror grows impatient, rhetorically, with the Stoic fatalism of Ecclesiastes. That we are all going to die, that death mocks and cancels every one of our acts and attainments and every moment of our life histories, this knowledge is to storytelling what rust is to oxidation; the writer of horror holds with those who favor fire. The horror writer is not content to report on death as the universal system of human weather; he or she chases tornadoes. Horror is Stoicism with a taste for spectacle.
We can bring brilliant flowers of victory to bloom in our lives when we weather the hardships of winter and emerge triumphant based on our practice of the Mystic Law. The key to victories lies in how hard we struggle when we are in winter, how wisely we use this time and how meaningful we live each day confident that spring will definitely come.
Nothing grows among its pinnacles; there is no shade except under great toadstools of sandstone whose bases have been eaten to the shape of wine glasses by the wind. Everything is flaking, cracking, disintegrating, wearing away in the long, inperceptible weather of time. The ash of ancient volcanic outbursts still sterilizes its soil, and its colors in that waste are the colors that flame in the lonely sunsets on dead planets.
Every day, it seems, a new extreme weather catastrophe happens somewhere in America, and the medias all over it, profiling the ordinary folks wiped out by forest fires, droughts, floods, massive sinkholes, tornadoes.
I love L.A., but I don't live there. I spent some time there when I was recording 'Kaleidoscope,' mainly working with some of the artists I collaborated with. The city and people in L.A. have a great vibe and the weather is always beautiful.
I recognize that it is through the engagement with my craft - by recognizing an idea and drawing it out, building physical models, collaborating with experts, constructing the sculptures at urban scale, and maintaining them through years of weather and interaction with the public - that a new art for cities has become real.
Enough fine weather and money and a few memorable meals make any place desirable.
I wrote a piece of software in 1998 that created fictional weather.
Plants exist in the weather and light rays that surround them - waving in the wind, shimmering in the sunlight. I am always puzzling over how to draw such things.
I talk to trees and animals. We have interesting conversations about food, weather, and love. They sometimes can predict the future.
One thing that feeds into the way you experience the social world is your mood - and one thing that affects your mood is the weather.
My ambition was to embrace those general qualities that Ernest Hemingway, a former newspaperman, once said should be present in all good books: 'the good and the bad, the ecstasy, the remorse and sorrow, the people and the places and how the weather was.'
Winning awards is great. Everyone wants to put a feather in their cap but for me the ultimate validation comes when you're standing on top of a peak and the weather's moving in and you're trying to manage logistics with your client, whether its food, water, shelter, and really there's only one constant out there: I know the last person I'm going to get to take care of is myself, so my gear has got to work. I take a lot of pride in knowing Eddie Bauer makes the best gear out there.
Whether we are aware of it or not, every act of trust carries with it a shiver of fear. A favorable situation can become dangerous. Deep down we know that life is insecure and precarious. However, if we do trust, the shiver carries with it a philosophical optimism: Life, with all its traps and horrors, is good The bet is implicit in trust itself. If we could be sure of everyone and everything, trust would have no value - like money, if it were suddenly limitless, or sunshine, if there were always fine weather, or life, if we were to live forever
As no man can say who it was that first invented the use of clothes and houses against the inclemency of the weather, so also can no investigator point out the origin of Medicine - mysterious as the source of the Nile.
If I ask anybody who learned to ski after the age of five, they can remember their first day of skiing-what the weather was like, who they went with, what they had for lunch. I believe that's because that first day on skis was the first day of total freedom in their life.
You can put up with everything in this world except not with a long stretch of beautiful days.
We really have dinosaurs today, without any question. You just need the right weather conditions, as I see it, to get huge creatures. And in the ocean, of course, we have huge creatures.... this is where the plesiosauruses seem to be today, and perhaps also this fire breathing dragon is still down there - very rare, but occasionally there.
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