It is what we make out of what we have, not what we are given, that separates one person from another.
Ultimately, I am responsible for how I live my life now, and what I make out of it. In fact, I am actually grateful for what I've gone through and wouldn't change a thing-although I admit I wouldn't want to live it over again either. Once was enough.
Practice is funny that way. For days and days, you make out only the fragments of what to do. And then one day you've got the thing whole. Conscious learning becomes unconscious knowledge, and you cannot say precisely how.
No experience is a cause of success or failure. We do not suffer from the shock of our experiences, so-called trauma - but we make out of them just what suits our purposes.
Back then it was nothing like today. So you'd go to the bowling alley. We bowled and you could be in the back and you could make out, you know? And you know how hot it was to make out.
In a painting, you can't make out whether the artist painted the left eye before the right eye. In Chinese calligraphy, you can see the progression of the artist's stroke.
'Alias' was very action-packed. 'G.I. Joe' and 'Conan' were very action-packed. It's been established that I can do action, which is great, but now I may just want to make out with a really hot guy.
The historian is terribly responsible to what he can discern are the facts of the case, but he's nothing if he doesn't make out a case.
Most sermons sound to me like commercials - but I can't make out whether God is the Sponsor or the Product.
I've been known to make out with girls from time to time. Couple drinks involved, you know, it's fun. And who knows, maybe it'll go further someday.
You slam a politician, you make out he's the devil, with horns and hoofs. But his wife loves him, and so did all his mistresses.
Poverty is an anomaly to rich people; it is very difficult to make out why people who want dinner do not ring the bell.
I have been celibate for about six or seven months, I think. I would rather just make out and kiss someone instead of sex. I'm single. I said I would be single for a year and I am.
Everybody, sooner or later, will have to go under the knife. Let's hope they make out as well as I did.
I can say with a solid degree of authority that I am a selfish person. I spontaneously forget the names of more people than not, unless I want to make out with them. I will take the last square of toilet paper off the roll without thinking twice. I tip taxi drivers so poorly I'm amazed none of them have run over my foot while speeding off.
Ours is a government of checks and balances. The Mafia and crooked businessmen make out checks, and the politicians and other compromised officials improve their bank balances.
We make out of the quarrel with others, rhetoric, but of the quarrel with ourselves, poetry.
Let us again pretend that life is a solid substance, shaped like a globe, which we turn about in our fingers. Let us pretend that we can make out a plain and logical story, so that when one matter is despatched—love for instance—we go on, in an orderly manner, to the next.
Your mind makes out the orange by seeing it, hearing it, touching it, smelling it, tasting it and thinking about it but without this mind, you call it, the orange would not be seen or heard or smelled or tasted or even mentally noticed, it's actually, that orange, depending on your mind to exist! Don't you see that? By itself it's a no-thing, it's really mental, it's seen only of your mind. In other words it's empty and awake.
How happily, said Austerlitz, have I sat over a book in the deepening twilight until I could no longer make out the words and my mind began to wander, and how secure have I felt seated at the desk in my house in the dark night, just watching the tip of my pencil in the lamplight following its shadow, as if of its own accord and with perfect fidelity, while that shadow moved regularly from left to right, line by line, over the ruled paper.
I didn't tell Ôtani I love him because I want to make out with him. I just love him, that's all. And I want to be with him all the time, even if we're just goofing around and hanging out like we always are.
You'll have to ask Bill that, Sookie. And this is the only reason we're going? You're not cleverly using this as an excuse to make out with me?" "I'm not that clever, Eric." "I think you deceive yourself, Sookie," Eric said with a brilliant smile.
Gender is the poetry each of us makes out of the language we are taught.
All kings is mostly rapscallions, as fur as I can make out.
Home. Home was BAMA, the Sprawl, the Boston-Atlanta Metropolitan Axis. Program a map to display frequency of data exchange, every thousand megabytes a single pixel on a very large screen. Manhattan and Atlanta burn solid white. Then they start to pulse, the rate of traffic threatening to overload your simulation. Your map is about to go nova. Cool it down. Up your scale. Each pixel a million megabytes. At a hundred million megabytes per second, you begin to make out certain blocks in midtown Manhattan, outlines of hundred-year-old industrial parks ringing the old core of Atlanta.
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