I have a microphone on one ankle and an ankle bracelet on the other, so I'm well balanced today.
Photographs are still being taken but aren't being shown. There's one of a skeleton bound at the wrists with pants still around its ankles; if it was a woman, she was likely raped; if it was a man, he was possibly castrated.
An interim government was set up in Afghanistan. It included two women, one of whom was Minister of Women's Affairs. Man, who'd she have to show here ankles to to get that job?
It isn't a coincidence that governments everywhere want to educate children. Government education, in turn, is supposed to be evidence of the state's goodness and its concern for our well-being. The real explanation is less flattering. If the government's propaganda can take root as children grow up, those kids will be no threat to the state apparatus. They'll fasten the chains to their own ankles. H.L. Mencken once said that the state doesn't just want to make you obey. It tries to make you want to obey. And that's one thing the government schools do very well.
mosquitoes were using my ankles as filling stations.
If you take a frown and turn it upside down, the person you are holding by the ankles will soon pass out.
I was wearing corn plasters above and below my toes and taping my ankles twice.
If the waitress has dirty ankles, the chili is good.
My eyes are too big, my nose is too flat, my ears stick out, my mouth is too big and my face is too small... my body is thin as a clarinet and my ankles are so skinny that I wear two pairs of bobby socks because I don't want people to see how thin they are.
It's like going to the gym everyday. It really is. I work hard on my craft, I sweat a little bit, I run a little bit, I might sprain an ankle every now and them, but it's all good and the more you do it, the more in shape you are and it's like a machine.
I've got little ankles and a bit of a belly, so it makes me look rather an egg on legs.
An evening dress that reveals a woman's ankles while walking is the most disgusting thing I have ever seen.
Ive had one very bad ankle injury but otherwise Ive been incredibly lucky with my fitness. Ive worked hard at it and Ive always been fit even compared to other players. That sustains you through various parts of your career, but I am 36.
I'd rather not, but if it will help the club, I'll do it. My ankle injury still bothers me sometimes.
Day and night gifts keep pelting down on us. If we were aware of this, gratefulness would overwhelm us. But we go through life in a daze. A power failure makes us aware of what a gift electricity is; a sprained ankle lets us appreciate walking as a gift, a sleepless night, sleep. How much we are missing in life by noticing gifts only when we are suddenly deprived of them.
Tomorrow. The word hangs in the air for a moment, both a promise and a threat. Then it floats away like a paper boat, taken from her by the water licking at her ankles.
The funny thing is, I've never really hurt myself in an action movie. I've done 'Wanted,' 'X-Men,' 'Welcome To The Punch,' even 'Trance' to a certain extent has little bits of action and stuff, but I've never really hurt myself at all - not even like a sprained ankle.
I'm 5 feet 7 but my legs weren't long enough to be a big-time model. From the knees up, everything is long but from ankle to knee, if I was in proportion, I'd be 5 feet 9.
If I break my ankle right now, this Olympics wasn't meant to be.
I broke my ankle ten years ago so high heels are not an option unless I'm literally going door to door for a function.
Procrastination is the best action against putting an ankle bracelet on future.
The immense accretion of flesh which had descended on her in middle life like a flood of lava on a doomed city had changed her from a plump active little woman with a neatly-turned foot and ankle into something as vast and august as a natural phenomenon. She had accepted this submergence as philosohpically as all her other trials, and now, in extreme old age, was rewarded by presenting to her mirror an almost unwrinkled expanse of firm pink and white flesh, in the centre of which the traces of a small face survived as if awaiting excavation.
Remember when i slept with my head in a puddle at your feet? It was humility, or atonement. later your ankle was a pillow and finally you pulled me up and in my sleep i placed your hand above my heart, like i forgot i didn't live there anymore
I am not too keen on my nose, I don't like my knees, I hate my ankles, I am unsure about my behind, I don't like my legs at all. I am not too sure about my chin, my forehead is a bit dodgy. But, overall, I can live with it.
At that moment of love, a moment when passion is absolutely silent under omnipotence of ecstasy, Marius, pure seraphic Marius, would have been more capable of visiting a woman of the streets than of raising Cosette’s dress above the ankle. Once on a moonlit night, Cosette stopped to pick up something from the ground, her dress loosened and revealed the swelling of her breasts. Marius averted his eyes.
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