During the day, our souls gather their ... impressions of us, how our lives feel. ... Our spirits collect these impressions, keep them together, like wisps of smoke in a bag. Then, when we're asleep, our brains open up these bags of smoke ... and take a look.
Man, in spite of his tendency towards mendacity, has a great respect for what he calls the truth. Truth is his staff in his voyage through life; commonplaces are the bread in his bag and the wine in his jug.
You are not an encapsulated bag of skin dragging around a dreary little ego. You are an evolutionary wonder, a trillion cells singing together in a vast chorale, an organism – environment, a symbiosis of cell and soul.
The French are not rude. They just happen to hate you. But that is no reason to bypass this beautiful country, whose master chefs have a well-deserved worldwide reputation for trying to trick people into eating snails. Nobody is sure how this got started. Probably a couple of French master chefs were standing around one day, and they found a snail, and one of them said: 'I bet that if we called this something like `escargot,' tourists would eat it.' Then they had hearty laugh, because 'escargot' is the French word for 'fat crawling bag of phlegm.'
I always have a pair of Ray-Bans in my bag and lots of pairs at home because they seem to go missing. They're a real staple.
It is tempting to think of your husband-to-be as just another bridal accessory. It may be easier for him to play along with this too. After all, you don't expect your shoes or your beaded bag to help you make decisions.
I have a superstition that if I talk about plot, it's like letting sand out of a hole in the bottom of a bag.
What every artist should try to prevent is the car, in which is our civilized life, plunging over the side of the precipice -- the exhibitionist extremist promoter driving the whole bag of tricks into a nihilistic nothingness or zero.
You can pack a bag and take a plane somewhere, anywhere, and when you get there and open the bag - lying right on top will be whatever you're running away from. The very first thing you'll have to unpack.
I want a girl with extensions in her hair, Bamboo earrings, at least two pair, A Fendi bag and a bad attitude, That's all I need to get me in a good mood. She can walk with a switch and talk with street slang, I love it when a woman ain't scared to do her thing.
I once caught a bid, I never hit skid, Never date a girl if the girl got a kid. Nahhh...papa's got a brand new bag And I never hit skinz once they sag.
Nature made us individuals, as she did the flowers and the pebbles; but we are afraid to be peculiar, and so our society resembles a bag of marbles, or a string of mold candles. Why should we all dress after the same fashion? The frost never paints my windows twice alike.
I started hitting the ball a lot better a few weeks ago, and just the putter wasn't working. And putting a new putter in the bag last week, it just helped.
Oil and coal? Of course, it's a fungible commodity and they don't flag, you know, the molecules, where it's going and where it's not [...]. So, I believe that what Congress is going to do, also, is not to allow the export bans to such a degree that it's Americans that get stuck to holding the bag without the energy source that is produced here, pumped here.
For recovery, I think it's a big deal to eat within a half-hour after you exercise. Otherwise I just try to put carbs into my system before I swim and then load up on the protein after. I don't count calories. Whether it's Sour Patch Kids or Reese's or a bag of chips, if I feel like eating it, I'm going to eat it.
Looking down on it from the helicopter, with a bottle of Jack in my left hand, a bag of pills in my right hand, and a blond head bobbing up and doen in my lap, I felt like the king of the world.
London life was very full and exciting [...] But in London there would be no greenhouse with a glossy tank, and no apple-room, and no potting-shed, earthy and warm, with bunches of poppy heads hanging from the ceiling, and sunflower seeds in a wooden box, and bulbs in thick paper bags, and hanks of tarred string, and lavender drying on a tea-tray.
But you see now baby, whether you have a ph.d., d.d. or no d, we're in this bag together. And whether you are from Morehouse or Nohouse, we,re still in this bag together.
SM is an art. Doing it well requires more than a bag full of expensive whips and exotic electrical toys, a closet full of fetish clothes, or a basement filled with bondage furniture.
To get rid of swelling... I put green tea bags on my eyelids. Or I grab cold spoons that I leave in the freezer and put them on my eyes.
Playing scales is like a boxer skipping rope or punching a bag. It's not the thing in itself; it's preparatory to the activity
I want a drink. I want fifty drinks. I want a bottle of the purest, strongest, most destructive, most poisonous alcohol on Earth. I want fifty bottles of it. I want crack, dirty and yellow and filled with formaldehyde. I want a pile of powder meth, five hundred hits of acid, a garbage bag full of mushrooms, a tube of glue bigger than a truck, a pool of gas large enough to drown in. I want something anything whatever however as much as I can.
On the mainland, a rain was falling. The famous Seattle rain. The thin, gray rain that toadstools love. The persistent rain that knows every hidden entrance into collar and shopping bag. The quiet rain that can rust a tin roof without the tin roof making a sound in protest. The shamanic rain that feeds the imagination. The rain that seems actually a secret language, whispering, like the ecstasy of primitives, of the essence of things.
Women are like tea bags.They do not know how strong they are until they get into hot water.
A policeman stopped me and said: Would you please blow into this bag, sir? I said: What for, officer? He said: My chips are too hot.
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