I was very influenced by The Magic Mountain. It's a book that had a huge impact on me. I loved that as a shape for a novel: put a bunch of people in a beautiful place, give them all tuberculosis, make them all stay in a fur sleeping bag for several years and see what happens.
The police had already found the cartridges and the rifles and the bag in the Texas School Depository and within a half an hour, those facts were known.
Golf is a thinking man's game. You can have all the shots in the bag, but if you don't know what to do with them, you've got troubles.
Personally, I think tying garbage bags around your head and hands is overkill.
A woman can carry a bag, but it is the shoe that carries the woman.
That day I think we really saw each other for the first time. I mean, saw beyond the bag of bones on the outside. You take away her pretty and my plain and what you get underneath is about the same: a couple of lost girls looking to be found.
An It bag is an It bag, only if you’re unlikely to possess it.
Each week I pack my bag and travel the country, I go to people who write me and tell me their problems. I appear whether at their house or at their job site or some neighborhood gathering. I come there and listen to their story and I get hands on as I say. I don t give advice, I give people hope, I build their self-esteem, I motivate 'em. I inspire them because that's what I do.
Tailor your space to your needs. In one closet, I have upper and lower rods for skirts, pants and tops. The second is all shelves for bags and linens. In the third, there's just one rod for suits and dresses. To hang evening gowns, I use hooks on the ceiling.
We were also performing. We'd give them a list of, like, 'Here's how we want to be introduced' They'd be like, 'Great' And then 5 minutes later they'd come back, 'Bad news: we lost your list. But good news: we've got a trash bag full of weed!'
How fascinating is death, the extinction of life. One moment here and the next gone. The light put out and only the empty bag of the body left.
I think that the lack of intuition in fashion today is one of the most dangerous things. My fear is that our business is turning into a bag business, and it's all about the bag. But it's not only about the bag. It's about the women. And it's not about a bag or a shoe or the jewelry. It's only about women. . . . Being almost politically correct and doing only what you expect without the ability to make mistakes is very dangerous to fashion. We have to go with our heart. We have to go with our intuition.
Golf is a terrible, hopeless addiction, it seems: it makes its devotees willing to trudge miles in any manner of weather, lugging a huge, incommodious and appallingly heavy bag with them, in pursuit of a tiny and fantastically expensive ball, in a fanatical attempt to direct it into a hole the size of a beer glass half a mile away. If anything could be better calculated to convince one of the essential lunacy of the human race, I haven't found it.
It makes my skin crawl to think about the violent ways snakes, lizards, alligators and other exotic creatures are raised and killed for boots, bags and belts.
When Mr. Bilbo Baggins of Bag End announced that he would shortly be celebrating his eleventy-first birthday with a party of special magnificence, there was much talk and excitement in Hobbiton.
San Francisco is the only city in America where marijuana is legal but plastic bags are not.
I don't want to play out of another man's bag.
Matching shoes and bags immediately age you by 10 years.
The lives of most men are patchwork quilts. Or at best one matching outfit with a closet and laundry bag full of incongruous accumulations. A lifetime of training for just ten seconds.
You sit down at Katz's and you eat the big bowl of pickles and you're eating the pastrami sandwich, and halfway through you say to yourself, I should really wrap this up and save it for tomorrow. But the sandwich is calling you: Remember the taste you just had. So fatty. It's what you want. It's what you are! I've never gotten home from Katz's with a doggie bag in my hand. A pastrami sandwich at Katz's is what's bad and good about food. It's the sacred and the profane.
For some people, history is simply what your wife looks good standing in front of. It’s what’s cast in bronze, or framed in sepia tones, or acted out with wax dummies and period furniture. It takes place in glass bubbles filled with water and chunks of plastic snow; it’s stamped on souvenir pencils and summarized in reprint newspapers. History nowadays is recorded in memorabilia. If you can’t purchase a shopping bag that alludes to something, people won’t believe it ever happened.
Was the earth made to preserve a few covetous, proud men to live at ease, and for them to bag and barn up the treasures of the Earth from others, that these may beg or starve in a fruitful land; or was it made to preserve all her children?
Well, a good ole boy is somebody that rides around in a pick-up truck - which I do - and drinks beer and puts 'em in a litter bag. A redneck's one that rides around in a truck and drinks beer and throws 'em out the window.
A good roast of sun, it slows you, lets you relax–and out here if there's anything wrong, you can see it coming with bags of time to do what's next. This is the place and the weather for peace, for the cultivation of a friendly mind.
I don't want to look at myself - ever. All I see is that my face is a problem. It's asymmetrical. I get terrible bags under my eyes.
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