I am short a cheek-bone and an ear, but am able to whip all hell yet.
Our tissues change as we live: the food we eat and the air we breathe become flesh of our flesh and bone of our bone, and the momentary elements of our flesh and bone pass out of our body every day with our excreta. We are but whirlpools in a river of ever-flowing water. We are not stuff that abides, but patterns that perpetuate themselves
But who knows what good might come from the least of us? From the bones of old horses is made the most beautiful Prussian Blue.
The broken bone, once set together, is stronger than ever.
The Great Way has no gate. Clear water has no taste. The tongue has no bone. In complete stillness, a stone girl is dancing.
Sticks and stones may break your bones but words can hurt like hell.
Light may earth's crumbling sand be laid on thee, that dogs may dig thy bones up easily
I eat only white foods: eggs, sugar, grated bones, the fat of dead animals; veal, salt, coconut, chicken cooked in white water; fruit mold, rice, turnips; camphorated sausage, dough, cheese (white), cotton salad, and certain fish (skinless).
The bones and tendons of the mind are mindfulness and awareness. Mindfulness is the mind’s strength, and awareness is its flexibility. Without these abilities, we cannot function. When we drink a glass of water, drive a car, or have a conversation, we are using mindfulness and awareness.
The best thing is to draw men and women from the nude and thus fix in the memory by constant exercise the muscles of the torso, back, legs, arms and knees, with bones underneath.
O painter skilled in anatomy, beware lest the undue prominence of the bones, sinews and muscles cause you to become a wooden painter from the desire to make your nude figures reveal all.
We say we are earthlings, not waterlings. Our blood is closer to seawater than our bones to soil, but thats no matter. The sea is the cradle we all rocked out of, but its to dust that we go. From the time that water invented us, we began to seek out dirt. The further we separate ourselves from the dirt, the further we separate ourselves from ourselves. Alienation is a disease of the unsoiled.
While a modicum of consciousness may have had survivalist properties during an immemorial chapter of our evolution – so one theory goes – this faculty soon enough became a seditious agent working against us … we need to hamper our consciousness for all we are worth or it will impose upon us a too clear vision of what we do not want to see … Consciousness has forced us into the paradoxical position of striving to be unself-conscious of what we are – hunks of spoiling flesh on disintegrating bones
I'm not an educated man, but I've read some history. Every kingdom comes up bloody. Every castle is built on a pile of bones. When I came out here, LA was nothing. Back east I was a gangster, out here I'm god.
If you ain't got a fat woman, you're making a big mistake, because a big fat woman tastes as good as a T-bone steak.
And so they are ever returning to us, the dead. At times they come back from the ice more than seven decades later and are found at the edge of the moraine, a few polished bones and a pair of hobnailed boots.
Have you ever thought about what protects our hearts? Just a cage of rib bones and other various parts. So it's fairly simple to cut right through the mess, And to stop the muscle that makes us confess
Jews ate the English nation to its bones.
Pain creates movement, and movement controls balance. If the opponent does not feel any pain you may be forced to break bones.
Matthew Davidson is blessed with a God-given, born-in-the-bone, talent. His musicianship is far beyond his age. When I play with Matthew, it's like playing with a musician with many years of experience. Always a perfect gentleman, Matthew's personality shines through in every performance. He obviously loves what he is doing!
I know for sure that I have an instinct for color, and that it will come to me more and more, that painting is in the very marrow of my bones.
Of whatever class or nation, however, all successful participants in the repetitive and unrelenting stress of aerial fighting came eventually to display its characteristic physiognomy: skeletal hands, sharpened noses, tight-drawn cheek bones, the bared teeth of a rictus smile and the fixed, narrowed gaze of men in a state of controlled fear.
Sticks and stones may break our bones, but names will break our spirit.
The most important part of the practice is for the question to remain alive and for your whole body and mind to become a question. In Zen they say that you have to ask with the pores of your skin and the marrow of your bones. A Zen saying points out: Great questioning, great awakening; little questioning, little awakening; no questioning, no awakening.
My partner has to have good sized bones.
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